#no idea what my younger self was cooking but to this day... there's something about the ocean...

[reactionimagesdaily]

found this one on a post

Fuck, that's good. I love the specificity of it

[on-a-lucky-tide]

Laswell and Nik watch Price play a Rugby match. Part 2.

cw: brief mention of injury, hand job right at the end.

Look, I just love the idea that Nik, Laswell and Price are good friends outside of work. I want to write more of it. All my work is self-indulgent but this is PURE self indulgence.

The plastic chairs were damn uncomfortable and Laswell was pretty sure she could have managed an extra pair of socks inside her boots, but the atmosphere was contagious. Jubilant, loud; people stamping their feet and blowing on their hands in the cold, old comrades meeting again after a long time, families gathered to see fathers, sons, husbands, play.

Plus, she had promised, hadn't she? And seeing her long term friend do something that didn't have the threat of a bullet mixed in was an opportunity she felt she deserved as much as he did.

"Here, Laswell."

A plastic cup of beer appeared in front of her face between the large fingers and thumb of her companion for the day, and she took it in two gloved hands. "Thanks, Nik."

"It tastes very bad," he informed her as he swung his leg over the chair next to her and fell into it heavily, taking a swig of his own with a grimace. "Da. Like barman pissed into a cup."

"Really selling it to me," she chuckled before taking a sip, nose wrinkling. "That is... quite the aftertaste."

Nik shrugged. "It is all part of the experience, and," he ferreted through his jacket, lifting his ass off the seat, and pulled out his hip flask, "ha." He offered it to her first, to which she shook her head, before he unscrewed the cap with his thumb and dumped a generous helping into the top of his drink. "How long?"

"They headed in from their warm up about ten minutes ago."

"Ah, he looked good, no?"

Laswell nodded, her eyes crinkling with her smile as she noted the blush of pride on Nik's face. John Price had, indeed, looked good. He had been rosie-cheeked and energetic through all the drills despite the cold, keeping up with the younger members of his team without any apparent issue.

And, perhaps most importantly of all, he had been laughing and grinning throughout, exchanging banter, and pausing to talk with someone he recognised in the stands, only ending the conversation with a handshake and bump of the shoulders when his coach - a Major something or other, according to the introductory leaflet - bellowed at him.

It was John's boyish glee that had caught Nik's attention more than all the tight woven shorts around thick thighs, the bulging biceps and full chests stretching through Underarmour base layers, and she had watched his eyes blow wide as he fidgeted in his seat, desperate clearly to be closer and bask in John's happiness rather than observe it from afar. She'd sent him for the beer to cool off.

It was an interservice friendly. Navy versus army. A pre-season warm up before the international competition began and the British armed forces would field a composite team of the very best. "Will they win this one?" Laswell asked, chancing another sip of beer and regretting it the moment it touched her tongue.

"Da. The Navy have uh, what to say, fast backs, but their forwards have bad... set pieces."

"Did you understand a word of what you just said?"

"Nyet." Nik grinned. He loved listening to John talk about the game and absorbed every iota of information he could to share in that passion. That didn't mean he was any better than Laswell in understanding what the hell was going on.

"Do you think he'll be selected for the internationals?"

"He has already been asked for his availability."

"Of course he has. Annoyingly, I don't think I've ever encountered an activity that John Price doesn't excel at."

Nik huffed a laugh. "He is an overachiever. Although, not such a good cook. I have never seen someone turn custard into rubber before."

"Aha! A weakness. I will store it for later use."

They lapsed into a momentary pause and watched the crowd find their seats. Nik checked his phone, and then nudged Laswell for a selfie to send to John. They toasted their crappy beers and Laswell conjured her cheesiest grin with a thumbs up. Nik sent it without filters, because he was brutal like that.

Nik (10.15): [image.jpeg]

JP (10.17): good-looking pair of muppets 👍

Nik (10.18): are you feeling ok?

JP (10:19): hammies tight but physio happy.

Nik (10:19): I will help with that later

JP (10:20): countin on it 👌💦😜

"You better not be sexting while I am right next to you, Nikolai."

Nik smirked at her and shook his head once. "He is fine. Nervous."

"You got 'nervous' from that?"

"Da."

"Nervous for a Rugby match but doesn't even bat an eye at leaping from a Hercules into an active firefight with a single page's worth of intel..."

"He feels out of practice. He missed the start of the tournament due to work."

"Ah. Story of our lives, Nik." They missed so much living due to work. Kate had missed the birth of both of her nephews, her brother-in-law's wedding, her sister's fortieth birthday party. So many big life events that would never repeat. But that's what made things like this special. It may be a forces match, but John was choosing to do it. He enjoyed it. Sharing in that enjoyment, that moment of happiness, that was special too.

"They are coming," Nik said like an excited boy on Christmas morning, having spotted the players at the mouth of the changing rooms. He stood with the rest of the crowd and Laswell rolled to her feet too, joining in the cheers and clapping as two lines of outrageously built men jogged out onto the pitch.

Nik and Laswell stood in respectful silence as the band played through the national anthem and the two teams lined up to bray along with it, hands on chests. The British national anthem was a damn drone, but at least it allowed everyone to pull it off. They sat down after the applause, when the two captains met with the referee in the middle of the pitch for the coin toss.

John tried to make the glance into the stands discreet, but the smile when he spotted Nik and Laswell - due to Nik's not so discreet full-armed wave - was difficult to hide. Hands on his hips, he looked down, scuffing the grass with his boot bashfully before turning to listen to the referee outline his expectations.

Sometimes she forgot about the sixteen year age gap between them; he was so brilliant at it all, so driven, so focused and relentless, he was her peer and her equal, but she had already been at the game for twelve years when he enlisted at 16. Whatever she felt in that moment at seeing John so pleased by their presence, his cheeks dimpling in that full-hearted grin he had, felt annoyingly maternal. She necked some beer.

Nik leaned in. "He will choose to receive."

"Mhm."

"Laswell," Nik said, feigning shock as she hid her smirk against her plastic pint.

The navy took the ball with them, the ref jogged backward with his hand in the air, and the two teams lined up. John was the 'fly half', which Kate understood to mean he was the decision maker of the team. It required effective leadership and communication to connect the forwards with the backline and navigate the enemy defence. The perfect role for one Captain Jonathan Price if ever there was one. Which explained the bright yellow captain's band wrapped around his bicep, clashing with the green and white jersey with its big number 10 on the back.

A single peep of the whistle marked the start of the game and the navy's number 10 put their boot to the ball, the rest of the team surging down the pitch behind it. One of the backline received the ball and immediately shipped it out towards the wings to begin making progress in the opposite direction.

The difference between American football and Rugby had always struck Laswell; the ball was the same-ish shape, there were set pieces for different scenarios, but that's where the similarity ended. Rugby was about keeping play moving. It was a relentless, brutal battle down the pitch, with hits that made her teeth shake and no padding between bodies and the impact.

The navy was playing aggressively, forcing the army's backline to reset. Every time the army's scrum half dug the ball out of the breakdown - which was what Laswell understood the huge pile of bodies on the floor to be called - John was there to receive it. He was agile, twisting, turning, everywhere at once; a testament to his own hard work to maintain his fitness and mobility.

One of the navy forwards was too slow off the mark and slammed into John once he'd passed the ball, bringing him to the ground hard with a shoulder to the gut. Nik was halfway out of his chair on instinct, and Laswell reached out a hand for his forearm. "It's part of the game, Nik. An honest mistake." The ref blew the whistle. Free kick.

John rolled to his feet, tugging the legs of his shorts down from the creases of his thighs before plucking the ball from the ground. He chose to kick into touch and gathered his team before the lineout. They hunkered down, listening intently. Laswell could hear his voice in her mind, imagined his tone, and when she glanced off to Nik and saw the look on his face, she knew he was doing the same.

John set the backline, barking over his shoulder and gesturing with his arm to get them in position, once he was happy, he indicated to the scrum half to take the throw in. The ball sailed over the heads of the two lines and found the hands of the army's flanker, who knocked it with practised ease into John's waiting palms. It sailed down the line quick, John sprinting behind the line. The navy thought they were going for a try at the wing and sent their players down to meet it. John cut in halfway and took the ball through a gap created by their miscalculation.

The hulking opposition forwards couldn't catch him once he had the space to open up with long strides, and he pushed one optimistic player off him like he was nothing. Laswell heard Nik breathe something in Russian, leaning forward in his chair, only to leap up the moment that ball touched the try line. She stood with him to clap and he threw an arm around her shoulder jubilantly. "He is so good, did you see? Like a jet, I cannot--" she missed the rest, because he was too busy celebrating, half his beer splashing onto the ground.

An orange five appeared on the scoreboard at first, and then John turned it into a seven when he kicked the ball over the middle bar between the two posts. "A conversion, Laswell," Nik informed her, toasting the scoreboard as it ticked up.

John's try seemed to turn the tables. Now that the army's side had seen the defence clinically dissected, it was like they were more confident in picking those holes. Seven turned to fourteen, fourteen to twenty-one. The navy managed to land a try shortly before half time but their fly half, John's junior by about fifteen years, missed the conversion kick, leaving the scoreboard at twenty-one to five.

Nik topped up their drinks while the two teams disappeared off the pitch, and returned with a flushed face after a suspiciously long time away. "You snuck into the changing rooms, didn't you?" She asked as she took the beer.

"Da," Nik confessed, shifting in his seat. "I did not stay long. He had a briefing to do."

"Of course he did," Laswell said, chuckling. No doubt Nik had gone to admire John in his kit up close; all that clinging lycra and polyester around John's frame. For a man, John had one hell of an ass. She was surprised Nik wasn't foaming at the mouth every time John bent over to receive the ball from the breakdown.

The second half started shortly after Nik's return. The army started with the ball this time, kicking it into the second half and chasing after it to shut down the offence before they could make ground.

The navy had apparently had what John would call a bollocking, because they were back to their form of the first twenty minutes, hitting hard and punishing gaps. Nik frowned as John was tackled for the third time in ten minutes. "They are targeting him," he growled.

"Oh yeah," a man to their left chimed in, "reckon their skipper told 'em to break that one's legs."

"Nik, it's trash talk," Laswell warned as the big Russian suddenly coiled with tension. "They will try to close down any advantages. He's one of them."

She, perhaps, spoke too soon, because the next hit made John stay down a bit longer, and he disappeared under a pile of bodies that dwarfed even him. When he finally got to his feet, there was blood streaming from his eyebrow. The ref blew his whistle and pointed at John's face, then the sidelines. He didn't even argue his case, chucking his armband to the scrum half's hand before jogging over to the medic, replaced by a sub.

Nik had been on his feet throughout, and now tracked John to the sidelines with his eyes, no doubt scrutinising his gait for abnormality. "It is superficial," Nik said, perhaps convincing himself not to vault the stands. "He will go back on."

"After being kicked in the head?"

Nik frowned, arms folded over his chest. He wasn't happy about it either.

As predicted, John returned to the pitch at the next blow of the whistle, his head wrapped in bandages and tape. The army had put up a valiant defence while he'd been off, and did so for the rest of the game, allowing only one more try to sneak through and returning it threefold. The final score at the end was forty-two to twelve in favour of the army, and the boisterous celebrations on the pitch carried on through the sportsmanlike cheers exchanged by both teams, followed by handshakes and cheers for the ref.

Nik and Laswell picked their way through the stands to the main bar to wait for John to emerge from the changing rooms. Another thing she quite liked about this sport in particular was that the players cleaned up in shirts and ties before they were allowed out. She had thought it was a services thing, a hang up about order and respectability, but no, they even observed the rule at club level. It was about respecting the clubhouse, the fans, the game and each other.

It took John about thirty minutes to arrive, his white shirt and green tie neatly pressed, wool trousers belted at his waist. Nik was on him in seconds, one hand taking his jaw, tilting his head left and right, to inspect the cut through his eyebrow. "Nik," John said through a soft laugh, "s'olright, been checked over."

"For concussion?"

"Yeah. Just a stud scrape. Nothin' dramatic."

Nik's hand slipped around the back of John's neck and Laswell could see the desperate desire to kiss his partner flash over his face, but in the end he only nodded and drew away. She sighed. So much had changed, and yet so much stayed the same.

"Kate, you made it," John said, that Quokka-smile in place and big arms enclosed her in a hug.

"Oh, I was in the area." She returned the embrace and then pushed the pint of bitter into his hands. "Well-earned, I think."

"Huh, yeah, 'm fuckin' knackered," he admitted, wiping the foam from his moustache after he took a sip. "A few of the lads want to do a crawl through the local bars, but I'm gonna turn in. Monday's chocka."

"I don't blame you," Laswell said, hopping onto a stool. "I thought you'd play soccer, you know."

"Rugby is a gentleman's sport and the captain is a gentleman." Nik sat next to her, his elbows on the bar. "Soccer is for thugs and idiots, no?"

"Hoohoo, shit, don't let Simon hear you say that, Nik," John said, leaning his hip against the bar at Nik's side. "You'd have to sleep with one eye open."

"So, the Liverpool scarf is just for show." Laswell recalled the tattered old thing hanging up in a frame in John's office. It sat right next to his medals of valour and a photograph of the 141 in Belgrade.

"Naw, once a Red always a Red."

"That means something very different where I am from," Nik said lightly.

Laswell chuckled low in her throat and John threw his arm around Nik's shoulder for a squeeze. They stayed until the man of the match was announced and, unsurprisingly, John had been selected by the team for his try.

He received the award in the same understated way he did his medals; a thank you to his team and to the panel, then 'all the best' before heading back to his drink. Once again Laswell watched Nik swallow the desire to demonstrate the affection bubbling beneath his skin. She was glad for Nik that John would require plenty of care this evening; an opportunity to dote to his heart's content.

Despite the generally positive experience, she was glad to flop into the backseat of Nik's hired Audi, watching the streets of London flit by as they left the pitch behind. By the time they dropped her off at the hotel, John was struggling to keep his eyes open, slumped low in the front seat, his arms folded tightly across his chest as if to hold himself together. She exchanged a look with Nik in the rearview mirror, the creases around his eyes betraying his knowing grin. John was clinging on for her benefit. Sweet, but unnecessary.

She opened the door but leaned forward to squeeze his shoulder before stepping out. "Well done today."

"Cheers," he said sleepily, one of his big paws parting over the top of her palm. "Thanks again. 'ppreciate it."

"Any time, John. I enjoyed myself. See you soon."

She patted Nik's shoulder too and he touched her wrist in return, before she left them to head to a well-earned rest in their Premier Inn. Hopefully a kiss too, or Nik might just implode.

--

Nik managed to convince John into a bath with the promise of a glass of whiskey. Without it, he would be stiffer in the morning and not in a way they could enjoy.

Once John was settled amongst the bubbles, Nik sat at the side with a pillow beneath his rear, one hand in the water to stroke whatever part of John happened to be near, while the other held a novel open against his thigh.

"Thanks for comin' today," John said in the comfortable quiet. His voice was soft, his eyes lidded. He had sunk lower, the waterline lapping at his collarbone.

"Of course. I enjoyed watching you in your element, John."

"It was the... uh, first time someone's come t' see me play."

Nik let the novel fall closed and twisted, resting his chin on the edge of the tub. "Have you not invited the sergeants, or the lieutenant?"

"Ah, they have better things to do 'n come and watch me play rugger at the weekend."

"I think you underestimate how much your team loves and admires you."

John hummed in the way he did when he wanted to argue but knew it was a losing fight. Nik got that noise more and more these days when it came to John's perception of other's opinions of him. He had an accurate and pragmatic understanding of his own abilities when it came to work, but that didn't seem to translate into a sound understanding of how much he was admired. The hum was a step forward towards acceptance, in Nik's opinion.

"You will invite them next time."

"Oh will I?"

"Da. And they will feel honoured by the invitation."

"What if I get my arse kicked? Almost did today."

"Then they will be there to pick you back up again, as they are in the field."

John fell silent, heaving a sigh through his nose. Nik gathered his legs underneath him and slipped his second hand in the water to caress the aching body within it. He ran the backs of his fingers over John's chest, down the valleys of his abdomen to the v-shape dips of his hips, and finally to his thighs.

"How are these?"

"Sore. They'll be fi--mm, Nik...'

"Is good?"

"Mmhm."

Nik rubbed his thumbs in firm circles, feeling knots and tension pop beneath them, and watched John's expression melt back into relaxation. He moved from one leg to the other, working his way up slowly across the large expanse of muscle to John's hip.

"Enjoyin' yerself?" John asked, an eye popping open to study Nik's face.

"Da. Watching your legs today was... hm, it made me want to spread them in the shower and demonstrate my admiration."

If it wasn't for the warm water, John would have flushed, but Nik was content by the shy smile he got instead. "In front of the entire team, eh? Filthy git," John mumbled.

"If you would enjoy others watching me make love to you, then I would consider it."

"Fuckin' 'ell, Nik," John said, scrubbing a hand across his face. His body betrayed him though, because the mere thought of it has caused his prick to harden enough to peak just above the surface. Nik tickled up the inside of John's thighs to his sac, fingertips stroking the heavy weight of it in the warm water. John's knees tilted out to give Nik access and he reached for Nik's chin with one wet hand, guiding him down for a kiss.

Nik kissed greedily as he played gently between John's legs, revelling in the vulnerability of his lover's exhausted body surrendering to the tenderness he offered. His tongue swept into John's mouth, licking the taste of whiskey from his teeth, the tip brushing the ridges of his pallet, sucking his tongue, his lips, before sinking lower to kiss his neck.

John made soft noises of pleasure, his heels skidding across the ceramic of the tub, damp fingers winding into Nik's hair. In the warmth of the water, his skin was soft, sensitive, and Nik knew how to touch him. Had spent many a night learning what made John moan and sigh, how his entire body was a map of erogenous zones desperate for a gentle hand that Nik was more than willing to provide.

When Nik encircled John's prick, stroking slowly back and forth, John let out a pleased sigh. "Fuck, Nik... Dunno whether I have the energy."

"You do not need it. Let me look after you."

"Would prefer t' give as good as I get. Ahh, fuck, Nik..."

Nik soaped his hand using the pump at the side of the bath and returned to John's eager prick. Tired he may be, but his body yearned for Nik as much as Nik's did for him. Nik kept a firm pressure, squeezing a little former on the upstroke, precum splashing over the edge of his fist. "John, you are so beautiful... You are so desperate for me."

"Yeah, Nik, haa, ah, god fuck, I'm close already..."

"Come for me then. Do not hold back. I will have you tomorrow, spread your legs and take what I want..."

"Fuck..."

"I know you wanted me to take you in that changing room, your blood running hot--"

"Ahh, Nik, fu--"

"--I know you wanted to touch yourself in the shower, thinking of me--"

"Mm, yeah, yeah, please, Nik..."

"I know what you need, I know how you ache for it, how you want to be filled by my cock and fucked well."

John latched onto the edge of the tub as he came, his thighs and stomach pulling tight, head pushing back as his cock pulsed in Nik's hand. Nik slowed his stroke, milking out the aftershocks as John gasped.

Nik kissed him lightly on the lips as his pleasure faded to throbbing embers, releasing his softening prick to rinse his hand. "Beautiful."

"Just nutted to dirty talk. Not sure beautiful's really the word."

"You do not see yourself as I do," Nik replied, admiring the brightness in those blue eyes, the ruffled hair, the flush. Beautiful was too empty a word for the majesty of John Price, but it would suffice for now. "Time for bed, John. Come."

Nik helped John out of the bath, teasing him about his shaking legs as he helped dry him with a second towel. John slipped naked into the soft, clean sheets Nik wasn't complaining; it would be easier to tease him open tomorrow morning. He was asleep and snoring softly before Nik had even switched the lamp off, the pillow clutched under his head.

Before Nik could sleep, he worked himself over to a swift and gutless orgasm that would allow him to sleep, knowing full well he would be satisfying himself in John come the morning. He fell asleep admiring the peaceful lines of John's face, eternally grateful he had the honour of calling John his.

[littlelostmoon]

Hey, welcome. I love to hear other people's headcanons about my husband (obiwan). And I also leave a request if you are open ofc 🫶🏻

-🪷

assorted obi-wan headcanons a/n thanks for the req! i have a ton of random hcs for obi-wan & they're so fun to actually write down lmao. hope you're having a nice day (..◜ᴗ◝..) tags gender neutral reader. sfw & nsfw (at the end). alcohol mentioned.

silly / random

vegetarian although he rarely has the time to cook for himself. i don't see him as the holier-than-thou type, just never liked meats. probably the texture?

a few years after the battle on mustafar he buzzed his hair again (lmao) but ended up hating it & wore a hood until it was mullet-length.

his living area in coruscant is completely devoid of personality to discourage lingering. literally the most basic furniture and plain, dark walls. unscented everything. sterile like a fancy hotel room.

never listens to music and will not give you his opinion on a song even if your life depended on it.

very modest with alcohol. only got super drunk once in his life (padawan years) and tried to irritate everyone around him. now, he has such amazing self control & hardly anyone can tell if he's been drinking. to make matters worse, he's not a social drinker. visits the corner of a bar on special occasions. you learned to ask if he's 'had a few' if he's acting sassier than usual.

when alone, he sleeps flat on his back with one arm folded over his chest. only one pillow needed.

this man hates fizzy drinks for some reason.

when the weather is cold, his nose area and lips get really dry. probably keeps one of those mini moisturizing balms on-hand and doesn't care if people think he looks weird with it smeared on.

romantic

obi-wan's body is a furnace. i don't make the rules. always so warm and cuddly. dizzy and feverish. if you're laying with him, nine times out of ten you'll have to cool off at some point.

while we're on the topic— he cuddles you in his sleep. always murmuring your name and tightening his grip on your waist.

whatever your hair care routine is, no matter what hair type you've got, he learned it and will offer to wash / braid / cut / dye / oil it for you. every. single. time. have you seen his hair? he knows what he's doing.

initiates hand-holding mostly by putting his hand on top of yours and waiting for you to lace them together.

in his younger years, he was a shameless flirt / womanizer as an act of rebellion against the 'rules,' but post-tpm era, he's a lot more serious about it (though some witty moments come through after he feels comfy). more interested in inviting you over for tea because you're out of teabags, or offering to clean / fix things for you. things you can almost brush off as friendliness.

yes, i'm dropping hints that his (giving) love language is acts of service.

loves having his back scratched, though he refuses to ask for it. he has no idea that it's a common relaxing gesture— thinks it's some quirk of yours that you sometimes do while zoned out. stays completely still so you forget to stop.

mild nsfw

this man does not wear any sort of undergarments. sorry. this isn't even something i care about yet i feel it so strongly for him. he's constantly wearing so many layers of soft, loose-fitting linen that he simply doesn't need to.

would never sleep naked, though. he finds that inappropriate and has a ton of robes / loungewear.

will carry you around (and carry you to bed) no matter the occasion. possibly my favorite thing about obi-wan is that he doesn't have a concept of the performative aspect of romance nowadays; he won't pick you up because he wants to make you feel small or protected or something to boost his own ego. he wants to get you where he wants (needs) you as fast as possible while remaining his sensual, old-fashioned self.

super loud. this is barely even a headcanon. he's got a range of grunts & high, breathy, open-mouthed moans. i need him.

i don't see him being stereotypically 'dominant' (he's not the type to care about rigid labels or expectations and is quite the gentleman) but once in a while when he's in those sarcastic moods where he wants to annoy you a bit, this will translate into the bedroom.

still gets shy / timid when you step out of the bath or shower in a robe or get dressed in front of him.

hardly ever tells you directly that he's turned on. you can tell by the way he kisses you or how pink his cheeks are. it works.

see above when i talked abt his love language— he is not above using acts of service to get in your pants. he offers to do other things for you once he's got you happy and taken care of. i said what i said.

[wol-fica]

i know you’re working on stuff atm, but could you do a little drabble idea i have?

pov: r is sabrina’s younger sister and is taller+stronger than her sisters due to being in lacrosse. sab is home visiting along w sarah and shannon, and david(their dad) gets drunk and puts his hands on sabrina, r steps in and defends her which surprises her cause r isn’t close w any of her sisters cause of the age gap (r just turned 18)

if not i understand, this has been brewing in my head for awhile, love your writing!

an - since you asked so kindly, and since the prompt you gave me is so delicious, i cooked something up for you <3

summary - sabrina is home to visit for christmas, and as much as you resent your older sister, seeing your father lash out sparked a protective nature inside of you…

warnings - domestic abuse, shoving, slapping, collar-gripping, swear words, punching (disclaimer: i respect sab’s dad, this is just for the plot)

sub an - felt a tad unsure about this writing, but i know you all need a little something so i just left it as is, i hope it’s enjoyable!

——————————

“Yes Kiara, I am having such a greeeaaaat time.” You deadpanned into the phone, rolling your eyes.

It was Christmas break for you in Pennsylvania, snow falling in thick flakes that covered the grass in a fluffy blanket of glittering white. Your family was all home for the holidays, which normally would be exciting if you weren’t on such tense terms with one of your older sisters.

Sabrina, who had become an international sensation overnight, was someone you never really clicked with. You didn’t dislike her or argue with her; the opposite actually, you truly did love her and enjoyed hearing about her success through social media, but the two of you just never had that…spark.

Your mom tried to get you to connect with her, being that Sabrina IS your sister and you were pretty solid with your other older sisters, but it didn’t work out that well in the end. She was on tour too much, and left for publicity and fame when she was young, which in turn bruised your relationship so early that it was hard to try to rekindle a flame that was never lit.

It also didn’t help that you had a 7 year age gap with her, compared to your sister’s 2-3 year age gaps with each other.

“It’s gonna be okay.” Kiara, your recently found best friend cooed, “It’s only for two weeks, and she won’t be around for all fourteen days.”

“I know she won’t, that’s not the problem.” You groaned, rubbing your face with your hands, “It’s my dad, he’s being an ass.”

“How so?”

“You know him and how Sabrina feels about what he did; imagine how awkward it is to be in the house with both of them around.”

Kiara chuckled, the sound of water running in the background indicating that she was finishing up her skin care routine, “Well just avoid, avoid, avoid. That’s what i’d do.”

You grumbled a complaint but silently agreed, knowing she was somewhat right. It sucked having to stay cooped up in your room all holiday break just to avoid the awkwardness with Sabrina and your father, but it was waaaaay better than awkwardly sitting around her or arguing with your dad, so hide away you will.

“Well mopey, i’m gonna get going.” Kiara said after a moment of silence, bringing you out of your thoughts, “I’ll call you tomorrow?”

“Yeah probably, if i’m free.” You replied, reaching for your phone to end the call, “Good night!”

After a swift farewell, you hit the red button and flopped back onto your bed, sprawling your arms and legs out into a starfish position to stretch your limbs out. Your body was still sore from lacrosse conditioning camp that ended just before break, but those handful of sweaty days had paid off in your favor, as now you were more muscular and toned than you had ever been before.

Gaining that muscle was something that you had been working towards for awhile, partly because of your self confidence, but also because of your father and his slightly abusive tendencies. See, ever since you had come out to your parents on your 18th birthday, your dad had not been the supportive parent in the situation.

He had used some nasty language towards you, and ended up getting physical towards you in his anger. You didn’t want to say it was anything drastic, just a shove, but it was enough to push you to be stronger, and enough to cause a disturbance in your family unit.

Your mother was not happy at all, chewing out your dad after you had hurried away to your room and forced him to apologize to you in the morning. Sarah, the closest of your older sisters, had immediately called you to check in and almost drove in from Michigan if it wasn’t for your stubbornness of her staying with her boyfriend. Your other sister, Shannon had sent messages and called as well, making sure you were safe and secure and even offering her place for you to crash at if you needed.

Sabrina was the only one who came home, flying in from LA and postponing a pretty big talk show she was scheduled for just to see you. She had dropped in as a surprise, hoping to talk with you and confirm that you were both physically and mentally okay, but you were keen on keeping to yourself and pretty much shut yourself off from everyone’s attempt at checking in.

Fast forward to now, the only time Sabrina has been home since that incident. Currently, your entire family was downstairs, drinking their hearts out and laughing to dirty jokes or whatever they were saying. You had excused yourself a while ago, feeling uncomfortable under your dad’s judgmental gaze during dinner, and had opted for curling up in your bedroom instead.

Big mistake unfortunately.

You were scribbling on your sketch pad now, ignoring your clocks flashing of ‘12:45’ and focusing on shading in whatever drawing you had procured in your boredom. You felt like it was almost done, but before you could lean back to get a good look at the final product, the sound of shouting from downstairs caught your attention.

“What the hell is wrong with you?!”

“You think you can talk to me like that, you are very mistaken.”

“Dad, you need to relax, like right fucking now!”

“I wasn’t talking to you!”

The sound of a slap jolted you upwards from your desk, and you moved swiftly toward your door. After yanking it open, you could clearly hear who was saying what, and it definitely didn’t sound pretty.

“What the fuck David?!” Your mother’s voice, scared and strained.

“Jesus Christ!” Presumably Shannon, fear and confusion thick in her voice.

“Sabrina are you okay?!” Sarah, that protective instinct always coming out of her.

It almost felt like a surge of anger rushed through you, and before you knew it you were bounding down the stairs and rounding the corner into the living room.

The scene before you wasn’t something that you had ever expected to see in your household, yet here you stood. Your mother and your sisters were crowded together, Sarah and Shannon consoling someone while your mother was in a yelling match with your father. He was clearly drunk, his eyes droopy and his speech slurred as he threw out insults in their direction. A certain word came out of his mouth that personally stung, and Sarah had whipped around so fast that you thought she was going to fall over.

“In what world do you put your hands on your own daughter?” She screamed at him, throwing her hands up.

That got you a good view of Sabrina, and you felt your stomach drop at the sight of her. She was clutching the left side of her face with both hands, her eyes bloodshot and tear filled from the injury she had just received. She looked so…defeated, and afraid, and that just wasn’t going to sit with you.

You moved quickly and precisely, maneuvering your mother and sister out of the way before taking your father’s collar in one fist and swinging your other into his jaw. The impact was loud, the room falling silent from the moment’s severity.

“Fucking hell!” Your dad stumbled backwards away from you, falling against the back of the couch.

He cupped his face, looking down at his hand as blood dripped out of his mouth, and then looked up at you. Your chest heaved up and down, your shoulders square and your jaw set as you stared him down.

“You think you can hit me, huh?” He sneered, pushing himself upright and moving towards you, “Think you’re all big and stron-.”

You silenced him with grabbing the front of his shirt and shoving him towards the front door, watching as he almost tripped in the process. He stood up to go at you again, but you were swift with dodging his swing and pushing him out the open doorway.

“Touch my fucking sister again and I’ll kill you.” You said lowly, watching as he struggled to stand on the snowy front porch, “Find somewhere else to stay tonight.”

With that, you slammed the door shut in his face and locked it, ignoring his yells and insults of your character. You returned to the living room and approached your family, who was now seated around Sabrina on the couch who had an ice pack clutched against her face.

“If he ever, and I mean ever, puts his hands on you again,” You started, glancing around all four of them, “I will be much less merciful.”

Your mother stood first, pulling you into a tight hug and murmuring something about how she would fix this nonsense, before hurrying outside to where your father was probably moping in the cold. Shannon followed after her, setting her hand on your shoulder as a silent acknowledgement of appreciation and disappearing around the corner.

“Glad that you hit him and I didn’t, cause I don’t think I would be able to stop.” Sarah grumbled, her arm still wrapped around Sabrina’s shoulders, “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” She responded, a small smile gracing her face, “Could you get me some water though?”

Sarah nodded, glancing at you before standing and heading in the direction of the kitchen. You rocked on your feet awkwardly, looking at anything in the room except your older sister. Sabrina hummed, and patted the spot next to her.

“Can you sit?”

You dropped into the cushions gingerly, interlocking your fingers and choosing to stare at the ground. She sighed next to you, proceeded to toss the ice pack on the table, and leaned herself against you with her head on your shoulder.

“Thank you.” She murmured, reaching for your hand, “For doing what you did.”

“You don’t have to thank me.” You responded, feeling insecurity rise in your throat when she intertwined her fingers with yours.

“I know, but I did it anyway.”

You grimaced, tensing your body before relaxing against the couches pillows. Sabrina felt that, and began to stroke the back of your hand with her thumb as a soothing method.

“I’m sorry for not being here when you needed someone to be.” She whispered after a moment, closing her eyes when you rested your head on hers, “It wasn’t supposed to be that way.”

“I didn’t need someone Sab,” You muttered, “I needed you.”

“I know, and I’m sorry.”

“Quit apologizing.”

She nodded, squeezing your hand gently before standing up. She turned to look at you, her blue eyes shining under the overhead light.

“Just so you know, you’ll always be my baby sister, and I’ll always love you.” She said, running her finger tips against your cheek before taking the ice pack and leaving the room.

“Dammit.” You cursed to yourself, pinching the bridge of your nose.

Why does family always have to be so hard?

———————

again, v unsure about this one, but i wanted to attempt something different. i’d love to hear your thoughts!

[cherryredlove]

☆ chinese takeaway ☆

Modern!au Aemond Targaryen x Reader

• • • • • • • • • • • • ✦ • • • • • • • • • • • •

• • • • • • • • • • • • ✦ • • • • • • • • • • • •

Your bestie and flatmate Helaena proposes a banging evening plan: get her brothers over, get a chinese takeaway, and binge the Lord of the Rings. It also helps her second brother Aemond is pretty easy on the eyes and also loves Tolkien.

Word Count: 1.5k

Themes: fluuuuuufff (veeery OOC lol but i need some sweetness rn), content warning of cigarettes and drinking

• • • • • • • • • • • • ✦ • • • • • • • • • • • •

Living with Helaena Targaryen is an adventure in itself. She's a wonderful flatmate and best friend. You bonded pretty quickly with her when you both signed up for Valyrian classes at your university, Blackwater Uni, in King's Landing. Her quirky charm is infectious, and the flat you both share is filled with small terrariums and ethereal string lights that make everything feel like a dream. Every night, the pair of you cook together and look after Helaena's array of babies, even if the spiders make you a bit squeamish. You love her, you love her family too.

It’s a lazy Saturday morning after a cheeky pub trip the night before when Helaena bursts into your room with a bright smile, her platinum blonde hair shining in the sunlight streaming through the window.

“I have an idea!” she announces, plopping down on the bed beside you and nearly knocking your jewellery box Nyra got you from Lys off your bedside table.

“You have lots of those, careful not to hurt yourself,” you tease, setting aside the book you were pretending to read for your latest university essay.

“I think we should have a get-together here tonight. A family night! You, me, and my brothers. We could do a Lord of the Rings marathon!” she pokes your arm, wiggling her eyebrows. She knows your weaknesses to a tee.

The thought of hosting a cosy evening (with some extracurriculars) sounds delightful. You’ve always had a soft spot for her brothers, especially Aemond. There's something about his intense gaze and quiet demeanour that draws you in, and your mutual love for all things Tolkien only deepens that sweet connection.

“That sounds perfect,” you agree. “What do you need me to do?”

“Just be your wonderful self!” Helaena grins. “I’ll take care of snacks, and Aegon said he’d handle the food.” You raise your eyebrows. Sounds like this night was happening regardless of your opinion. You grab a pillow and thwack Helaena, who screams lightly and crumples onto the floor, laughing her ass off.

• • • • • • • • • • • • ✦ • • • • • • • • • • • •

As the day transitions into evening, the flat transforms into a snug haven. Soft fairy lights cast a warm glow, and the aroma of freshly popped popcorn fills the air. You and Helaena arrange an assortment of snacks on the coffee table, including gummy worms (Helaena’s favorite), chocolate-covered pretzels (your favourite) and a colourful array of fruits (only Daeron will touch them).

Aegon arrives first through the door, arms laden with bags of Chinese takeaway and closely followed by his blond brothers. His carefree grin is infectious as he sets the bags down and immediately begins sorting through the contents.

“Alright, listen up! I got everything. Chicken chow mein for me, sweet and sour pork for Daeron, Kung Pao chicken for Helaena, and Aemond, you get your usual, Szechuan beef.” He looks at you with a cheeky smile. “And for our lovely host, your favourite, vegetable dumplings and egg fried rice.”

You smile, touched by Aegon’s thoughtfulness. The last time you'd gotten Chinese was after Baela's birthday 3 months ago, and whilst you expected him to remember your chippy order, this was quite sweet. “You remembered.”

“Of course,” he winks, settling onto the couch with his carton of noodles.

Daeron dives right into his sweet and sour pork, chatting animatedly about his latest adventures at university. He's like a sweet younger brother to you, and you ruffle his hair when he tries to nick some of your dumplings.

Aemond's presence is a bit quieter but no less significant. He offers you a small smile, one that you return warmly, feeling your heart skip a beat.

"Hiya Aemond," you say. He nods, passing you his fortune cookie. He's not the biggest fan, you remember, quite touched he gave it to you and not Helaena, who huffs comically at her loss.

With everyone settled, the movie marathon begins. You and Aemond exchange knowing glances as the opening scenes of 'The Fellowship of the Ring' play. Both of you gaze quite longingly at The Shire, and you feel your heart stutter a little when Aemond glances at you when Arwen declares her love for Aragorn. The moment is broken by Aegon cracking open a Strongbow cider and tossing you a pre-mixed vodka soda can. You sigh lightly and settle in for the movie.

• • • • • • • • • • • • ✦ • • • • • • • • • • • •

As 'The Two Towers' progresses, Aegon sprawls across the couch, lazily consuming anyone's uneaten cold noodles, while Daeron animatedly discusses his favorite characters (Merry and Boromir) with Helaena, who favours Galadriel most of all.

"Imagine how useful the gift of prophecy would be," she dreams aloud. "I'd know all the answers on my entomology exams."

You find yourself nestled comfortably between Aemond and the armrest, stealing glances at him whenever Aragorn and Arwen share the screen. His focus is unwavering, and you find yourself asking him about his opinions of the plot, as if you both haven't watched a million times. It's worth it for the smile he gives you as he describes his love of Faramir. You argue Theoden's case with such passion that he laughs so loudly even Aegon is startled out of a snooze.

By the time 'The Return of the King' reaches its climactic battle hours later, Aegon is fast asleep, snoring lightly with an empty carton resting on his stomach. Daeron and Helaena aren’t far behind, having dozed off to the comfort of the couch, nestled under soft blankets.

That leaves just you and Aemond, the room silent save for the movie's soundtrack and the rhythmic breathing of the others.

You catch Aemond’s eye during the scene where Aragorn is crowned king, and Arwen finally steps forward. You like how Arwen and Aragorn's love is quiet almost, all words expressed through gazes. You feel your heart constrict a bit when Aemond holds your hand for the departure of Bilbo.

As the credits roll, Aemond stretches and stands, offering you a hand. “Care to step outside for some fresh air?” he suggests.

You nod, taking his hand as he leads you to the balcony. The night air is cool against your skin, and the city lights twinkle like distant stars. King's Landing is a great city to live in. You love it dearly.

Aemond pulls out a pack of cigarettes, offering you one. You accept, though you really only smoke for special occasions. You cringe remembering Jace's 18th at Dragonstone nightclub where you tried to chainsmoke. Thank Gods Aemond was there with water to help you.

The two of you stand in comfortable silence, the smoke curling up into the night sky.

“Thank you for tonight,” Aemond says softly, his gaze fixed on the horizon.

You smile, exhaling a puff of smoke. “I should be thanking you. I loved every minute.”

He turns to you, a hint of vulnerability in his expression. “You know, Aragorn and Arwen’s story always resonated with me. The idea of finding someone who sees you for who you truly are...”

His words hang in the air, heavy with meaning. You feel your heart flutter, warmth spreading through you like the gentle glow of a hearth.

“I know what you mean,” you reply, meeting his gaze. “It's about finding someone who understands the depths of your soul.” Big words for a young girl at uni, and usually you'd cringe at such dramatic speeches that are reserved for club toilets with the girls after too many tequila shots, but with Aemond, poetics seem right.

Aemond steps closer, the distance between you shrinking until it's almost nonexistent. The world around you fades, leaving only the two of you bathed in moonlight.

His voice is barely above a whisper. “I think I’ve found that person.”

Your breath catches, the world standing still. The sincerity in his eyes is undeniable, a reflection of your own heart laid bare.

In that moment, words are unnecessary. The connection you share speaks louder than anything you could say.

With a gentle touch, Aemond cups your face, his thumb brushing softly against your cheek. You lean into his touch, feeling the warmth of his hand against your skin.

And then, as if drawn together by an invisible force, his lips find yours in a kiss that’s both tender and profound. It’s a promise and a realization, a moment that feels like the culmination of every shared glance and whispered conversation over years of your friendship. His lips are warm and soft, and you feel perfect.

When you finally part, the world around you slowly comes back into focus, the sounds of the city distant and gentle. Aemond smiles, a rare and genuine smile that lights up his entire face.

“Let’s make this a tradition,” he suggests, his voice laced with hope. “Movie marathons, Chinese takeout, and us.”

You nod, your heart swelling with happiness. “I’d like that. I’d like that a lot.”

As you stand together on the balcony, the night stretches on, filled with endless possibilities and the promise of new beginnings. It’s a moment that feels both timeless and fleeting, a memory you’ll hold close for years to come.

• • • • • • • • • • • • ✦ • • • • • • • • • • • •

AN: im sorry i love writing modern aus, especially for characters that just never stop suffering lol. i just love adding in easter eggs and references to the series and imagining the targs as party animal cuties, not kinslaying weirdos. check out my masterlist for more stuff like this, plz send in any ideas or requests xx

[kimmi-iii]

Hey klee!! I just finished RE4R but somehow I can't stop thinking about RE2 Leon!!! Help!! Got any ideas for some fluff (or smut hehe) surrounding college-boyfriend!Leon?? It might be a little niche but it's consuming and rotting my brain I can'ttt I have a couple thoughts but I'm wondering if you have any headcanons or drabbles on how he'd ask you(or reader) out, would you get to see him between classes (maybe he's in the academy, or maybe he's in college w/ you), hmmm maybe what it'd be like if you were sharing a place... idk something wholesome!! (or maybe a lil spicy but I don't really have any ideas about that besides Leon being a switch/sub)

Omg I'm so into Leon being a switch leaning towards sub :3

Here are my takes/headcanons about Leon Kennedy being your silly college bf!!

Afab!reader

SFW:

-We're most likely talking about RE2R Leon so I could totally see him doing something super cheesy like bringing you roses, face masks, and hugs from behind

-He's 5'8" aka 172cm so he's a pretty tall guy. So hes just 10x taller than you but is such a softie.

-This man can cook!!! Not much to really work with in a college dorm (I'd say so at least but I'm not a chef) but Leon would definitely have a few cooking tricks up his sleeves that are simple and easy to do

-The typa guy to stay up with you to cuddle and watch movies. Depending on the day he might not even pay attention ;)

-Might be a slight self insert, but if you're in a performance arts major/in the school's plays, Leon is definitely there to support you and would go to every show you're in.

-he gives off "beauty and brains" kinda guy. He definitely played some sort of sport in high school. Probably baseball or lacrosse. And he definitely has mostly As and Bs. This man is just so damn good in school--and he looks good? Dream come true

NSFW:

-Since he's in college, he's younger. And since he's younger Leon, he's definitely a sub-leaning switch.

-He's most likely not a virgin but he practically has no experience. So you could definitely pretend he is one

-Just imagine him whimpering and whining on the bed in your dorm room. His poor pink tip leaking precum while he waits for you to stop teasing him.

-"F-fuck--please please please! I-I need-i need you so so bad..." He says as you're kissing all over his body except the thing that needed the most attention

-and when you actually do touch it? Oh the pretty boy is so relieved. You're giving the head of his cock kitten licks as you jerk off the rest.

-but when you start giving the sloppiest blowjob or begin riding him? He's on cloud nine. His cock twitching from the warmth wetness if your mouth--or he's whining and gripping onto your hips and thighs from your tight, wet pussy as you ride him.

-This man probably has the best cum shots. After you climax, you pull off of him and immediately begin to jerk him off. That alone has him gripping at the bed sheets and bucking his hips into your hand as cum spills all over his torso.

-Since he's inexperienced, you either fall asleep next to each other after, or you help clean him up for aftercare

-did I mention he makes the more prettiest noises and cutest faces when you dom him? His little mouth hangs open, his face is flushed and hair sticks onto his forehead

(I would do some for when he's top but I'm in a femdom mood)

[lumiosemuseum]

From Y to Y

Ship: AZ x Nerine

Summary: Nerine has an ordinary day. (Or: Tomorrow, I'll Hold Your Hand In Mine but it's from Nerine's POV this time.)

Really simple (despite the length...), I didn't do any edits cuz I'm lazy ^.^

TWs:  some suggestive language, also touches on Nerine’s intense hatred towards her younger self (which also manifests as some hatred towards her current self. Oops!) Alternate link / Neocities link (tba)

When Nerine awoke that morning, she awoke with a yelp. She’d nearly forgotten the events of the previous night, tipsy with champagne as she was. Discovering herself not only on her couch, but within AZ’s arms, was enough to sober her immediately.  He slept on, snoring softly; even when he was young, he had a habit of sleeping until noon on most days. She reached up to touch his face. So pale… I really hope he’s at least trying to take better care of himself.

From behind herself, she felt a large presence. She glanced over her shoulder, only to find Floette floating above her, a mischievous look on her face.

“Oh!” Nerine began, but was quick to cover her mouth. When she continued, she did so in her quietest voice.  “Miss ‘Ette… you should know better than to sneak up on people! A— and besides that, I was simply…” She blushed, and Floette laughed softly in response. Nerine pouted as she stood.

“Well… forget about any of that. Floette, I need to start getting ready for work. Would you like to join me?” Floette nodded, and floated down so she would sit on Nerine’s shoulder. She reached over to gently pet her round head; it was wonderful to see her with so much energy.

Alongside Floette, Nerine began her morning routine: She returned to her bedroom to brush her teeth and take her morning shower. She changed into her uniform, taking note of the fact that it needed a good ironing, but not caring enough to actually do the work. She gave Floette a piece of candy, she found while digging within her purse, then left her bedroom for her kitchen. She made a cup of coffee,  which upon being finished, was immediately diluted with all manner of sugars and caramel syrups, then set aside to cool. She cooked herself breakfast; an omelette with mushrooms and spinach (briefly, she considered if she should make one for her guest as well). She returned to the living room to peer at a still-sleeping AZ, then dragged Floette away when she took out a marker, intending to draw on him. 

It was only when she was about ready to leave when AZ awoke, his expression one of a near-delirious confusion. He squinted, no doubt wondering what it was she held so securely within her hands (Floette, who now sat atop her head, seemed all too excited by the idea of having caffeine). “Aza, good morning!” she said, and AZ blushed in response to it.  “I should have mentioned this last night, but… I have work today, so I’ll be gone.” 

She frowned slightly, her nose scrunching as she pondered her next words.

“Feel free to… make yourself at home? You can help yourself to anything in the kitchen, too. O-or, if you have something else you need to do today, you can… um.”

AZ nodded in understanding. “When will you return home?”  “Well, the museum closes at about 6:30, but I'm planning on stopping somewhere after that, so I might be here closer to 7:00 or 8:00.”

She gulped down her coffee, which had been cooled significantly by a copious amount of milk and cream. Setting aside her mug, she reached downwards to pull on her black heels, which remained at the same location they had been tossed aside the night before. Once she finished, she stood still for a moment… before reaching to pry Floette from her seat atop her head. “I can’t take you to work with me.” she said in a half-scolding voice, “Well, I could, but I think your brother wouldn’t like that.” 

Floette pouted at her words, but was obedient when Nerine decided to place her on top of AZ’s head instead. She giggled at the sight of them together. “I really need to be on my way…” she smiled sheepishly, “I’ll see you later, okay?” “Nerine…” with a stretch, AZ rose to his feet. They had been faced level while he was seated. She was used to feeling quite small when he stood above her like this, and yet it still astounded her at times. He reached to touch her cheek, careful not to ruin the makeup she had meticulously spent the morning doing. She leaned into his touch, her lips slightly parted; the paint she wore gave them a glossy colour. 

“Nerine,” he repeated, “may today be wonderful for you.” Awkwardly, he leaned down just enough to leave a kiss against her forehead. Nerine shivered in response to her, alongside making an odd little noise. “T…thank you.” “I’ll be seeing you.” “Yes, see you…” 

Though her movements were stiff, Nerine dragged herself out of her home, and into Snowbelle’s icy weather. AZ watched her, standing in the doorway as she summoned forth her Corviknight, and clamoured onto its back. She gazed back at him for a moment, and AZ waved her goodbye. Aries was quick to ascend, her wings spreading wide as she flew above the Kalos region. The experience still unnerved Nerine, despite how many years she’d been at it; she never quite got over her fear of heights. With her face buried within Aries’ dark feathers, she awaited the moment they’d land within Lumiose City.

It always caused quite a stir when Aries arrived; Corviknight were an uncommon sight within Kalos, and paired with Lumiose’s infamous “witch,” seeing her often felt like a scene from a fairytale. The old Corviknight quite disliked the attention, however, and was quick to stir up a fuss until the moment Nerine recalled her into her ball. Now standing in front of the museum, she hurried inside. The two young girls who worked the front desk greeted her. “Miss Nerine, you look tired! Did you sleep well?” the shorter of the two asked, then with a grin, continued in a whisper.  “...Did you invite a man over?”

“Of course not.” Nerine scoffed, “I'm much too busy to even think of such things!” the two girls giggled at her reaction, clearly coming to their own conclusions, but Nerine had long elected not to care about their sillier antics. 

She continued on to the backroom of the museum, taking a moment to peer at her reflection within a wall-mirror to ensure her makeup hadn’t gotten messed up.

She set down her purse, her myriad of keychains causing a ruckus with every movement, dusted off any of Aries’ feathers, and stood tall.

Today would be a day like any other. 

A surprise visit from Kalos’ own champion had caused a large amount of guests to swarm in; the museum had recently acquired a new painting of King AZ, and Serena, as well as some of her friends, wanted to talk a look. (“...Why did the artist paint him with such a small nose?” Serena had asked, and Nerine shrugged in response. “I wouldn’t know.” Nerine said. The depiction looked almost nothing like his younger self in truth, but she did not wish to say that to her.  “I know that you faced him once, but I’ve never seen him up close.”)

A large number of visitors made up a tour group. Some were clearing visiting Kalos from other regions, while some were locals drawn in by the chance to meet a celebrity.  In truth she disliked the large crows, but Nerine continued on all the same. She stood before a rendition of the Ultimate Weapon that had been drawn by an artist from the middle ages, based on descriptions from old texts. Besides it was an old replica of the ignition key, a more recent addition to the gallery.

“Up until recently, this weapon was considered a mythological object. A fable to explain the sudden downfall of a once great region. But it turns out fact is stranger than fiction. I'm sure you are all aware that this weapon was dug up, only to be destroyed in these recent years…”

Next, mention how the war led to Kalos falling into a dark age. Don't refer to Xanthos by name; the people of this era are unaware of who he truly is. You did not see Kalos’ fall. Just like everyone else, you learned it from second-hand sources. You are an ordinary woman.

“The past usage of this weapon led Kalos into a period of ruin. The king's younger brother, the very same who had once raged war against him, took on the responsibility of helping Kalos heal, perhaps in repentance for his past actions. This is why he is called the Restoration-King. Here, we see an artist's rendition of what the king's brother may have looked like…”

The painting was in truth an inaccurate one. The detail of Xanthos’ flaming red hair had been lost to time, and so he was typically depicted with the same brown as his brother. His facial moles, round chin, and wide nose were also omitted in favor of a more “traditional” look. The Xanthos of the painting was merely a hardened warrior, while the Xanthos of reality so greatly resembled his own mother. As she gazed at the painting, one of the museum guests raised their hand. “Yes? What would you like to ask?”

“Do you know about that old movie from a while ago? The Folly of Love— that was the title.” The young girl clutched a book against her chest; a historical romance from the looks of it. “The woman in that movie… Was she someone who really existed?” Ah. It wasn’t the first time she’d been asked that question, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last. She was used to it. Nerine straightened out her skirt, and replied with proper professionalism. 

“Well… it is difficult to say what is true, and what isn’t, when it comes to the past. It is likely that this woman did exist in some form, but I doubt she was anything as fantastical her counterpart within the film is!”

The group began to chatter amongst itself after Nerine finished answering. Was that movie good? I’ve never watched it. I heard that someone is trying to get the rights to do a remake!  The actress who plays Elodias in that movie is really pretty, but apparently she didn’t look anything like that in real life. Just an average looking girl. I bet the king was just using her, too. Why would he like someone like that? Nerine tightly gripped the fabric of her skirt. It was nothing she hadn’t heard before. She could handle this easily. Another girl raised her hand, and Nerine called on her.

“She was really in love with the king, wasn’t she?” she asked. “But… did the king love her back?”

Nerine tensed in response to the question.  

“That's not…” she began, only for her words to become caught in her throat. She attempted again to speak, but though her lips moved, words would not come out.

What are you doing? Her hand reached to pull at a loose strand of her hair. Acting like that little girl you were. Stop that! You're better than this, aren't you?

“I, erm…” Nerine stammered.  “I… need a moment! I apologize, it is simply— something came up! I will be back soon!”

After calling over one of her co-workers to take over the tour group, Nerine sprinted back downstairs, to the break room.

She found herself with her hands still tugging at her hair. She gripped her own coils tightly, forcing herself to pause.

She dragged herself over to her favourite chair, and sat. She slumped forward with a groan, letting her cheek rest against a cold table.

She was used to hearing such things. Questions that would have been invasive, were they not about someone who was supposed to be long dead. She had perfected her responses; she likely was real, just not in the way she’s often depicted. Modern renditions of her are often influenced by her becoming a symbol for monarchists during the time of Kalos’ revolution. No, it’s unlikely that she played any major role outside of the king enjoying her company. Yes, she supposedly disappeared from the region around the same time the king did. Yes, it was quite foolish of her to follow a man like him, wasn’t it? People make rash decisions when they are blinded by love. Did she love him? Yes, of course. Did he feel the same way towards her? Did he?

Sometimes, she didn’t know what he saw in her. She was plain and simple, with no real special talents of her own. And yet even as he grew into his kingship, he was determined to keep her around. It was possible that what he really loved was the sense of familiarity, and yet he still…

She groaned. Thinking about how she was “back then” made bile rise in her throat. So weak-willed, so easily ignored and forgotten. She spent years crafting a version of herself that would always be heard, even if it required beating her past into submission.

And yet at times, the phantom limbs of Nerine Elodias would grip her, and refuse to let go.

She lifted her head. In a few moments, she would brush her hair back down, fix up her makeup, and would resume her work as if nothing happened. She was, after all, an ordinary woman.

The long hours passed without any further mishaps.Nerine gathered up her belongings, eager to finally head out for the day. She waved goodbye to her co-workers, and headed out into Lumiose’ cool night air.

She gazed down at her watch. 6:40. The sidewalk before her stretched out and onwards. If she remembered correctly, the shop she wished to visit would be about a 15 minute walk.

Will he even still be there when I return? Nerine thought to herself as she made her way to her destination. Her heels had long grown uncomfortable, but she could surely tolerate them for just a moment longer. It may be weeks, or even months before I see him again.

Still, she continued on, and the shop she intended to visit came into view. A clothing boutique located within an old, elaborate building. The last time she visited, she had been shopping for Lysandre.Though it has been some time since then, the place still seemed unchanged. Though some signs of wear existed on the wooden fixtures attached to the boutique, it added to the charm of the design. She entered.

Being later in the day, only a few other patrons seemed to be shopping. A clerk gasped upon recognizing her. Shooing away some of her younger employees, she bounded towards Nerine. “Miss Nerine!” she said, “It’s been ages! You know, I was beginning to expect you’d forgotten about me and this little shop.” “Of course not,” Nerine replied, “I just didn’t have any excuse to come by. At least, not until…” “Not until?”  “Well, I’m… shopping for a friend of mine,” she explained. For some reason, referring to him in that way flustered her. 

“A friend?” the shop clerk's curiosity was clearly piqued. “What kind of friend is he?? Oh— let me rephrase. What kind of style does he go for?”

“He's... very tall, so that makes buying clothes a struggle for him,” Nerine began, “He prefers clothing that's a bit loose. Um…he's had a hard time lately, and hasn't been able to dress how he likes, but I think I would describe his personal style as classy, but comfortable.”

“And he's … a little picky when it comes to colours. He likes orange and green the most.” she paused, suddenly recalling an old memory. “There was one time where someone came to him, offering the finest, embroidered vest, imported from a distant land… but he rejected it simply because it was purple! He said a colour like that would've looked better on me…”

“Did he, now?” the shop clerk gave her a knowing smile. “I’m certain we can find something that suits him! Come along this way— we actually got a new collection in store not too long ago!” Nerine nodded, and followed behind the old woman. This would be a quick venture; she was quite enthused by the idea of returning home.

Though she had only intended to get a few items, the excitement of clothes shopping for the first time in a while overwhelmed her. The bag she now carried was heavy, bagged down with all manner of items. Mostly warm clothing, a variety of knit sweaters, corduroy pants, and even a wool scarf. 

He’d be upset if he knew how much I spent on him… Nerine sighed as she dragged herself over to a park bench to rest. But I don’t care. He can’t keep wearing those rags forever! The bench made an exaggerated groan when she sat on it, causing Nerine to frown. It would be just my luck if it broke now, wouldn’t it…?

As she sat, Nerine reached into the bag containing an assortment of clothing items, until she clutched an oversized sweater. Bundling it into her arms, and buried her face against it. The slightly floral scent of an expensive shopping center still clung to it. It was a great contrast from AZ, who up until the moment she made him bathe, smelled of dirt, sweat, and old clothing. She didn't mind it as much as she should have. Even as she washed his usual rags the night before, she found herself hugging his favourite green scarf.

Though she had invited him to come and visit, she was still surprised when he actually appeared on her doorstep, rain soaked and wall-eyed. Before she heard his knocking, she'd drifted off to sleep while watching her favourite show— a rather frequent experience for her.

Sometimes, she struggled to remember he was once a king. His shabby, pitiful appearance hid a powerful sense of will. The strength to bring his dearest friend back from death, then to spend the next 3000 years searching for her.

She often wondered about him. His lonely existence, his constant longing. A love that was wider than an ocean, and just as deep.

She would be lying if she said she could comprehend his dedication. She loved Floette as well, and always had. But his devotion was something far more powerful than a simple girl like her could wrap her head around.

I care about her as well. His grief when she passed… I felt it as well. Nerine clutched the sweater closer. She remembered the feeling of her arms around his body, and the alarm she felt as his frailness — as if at any moment, he would waste away. I would never wish him apart from her; a symbol of his mother's adoration for him. But I do wonder if there's any room for me in that heart of his. I think there was, once upon a time. But now…

Nerine turned her gaze skywards, where the new moon rose high above. She had made her life full in order to forget her want, but now that things were slow again, she could think of nothing but desire.

With a sigh, she summoned Aries from her Pokeball. Clutching her shopping bag in one hand, she climbed the Corviknight’s back, and ascended into the starry sky.

Back at her home, Nerine pushed open the old manor door, her limbs weary. “It is freezing today…” she sighed.  She kicked off her heels, and tossed aside her vest and the hairbow she wore with her work uniform.

She expected the usual; to be greeted with a mew from Clytie in an otherwise quiet house.To her surprise, her TV was on, playing a dull film. And not only that, the scent that lingered in the air was a delicious one, rich and buttery.

“It smells good in here…” but why…? Curious, she made her way over to the dining room. “Aza…?” She curiously peeked inside the room at first, then a soft oh! escaped her. AZ stood near the dining table, which had been decorated in her finer dishware. Sweet champagne accompanied a plate of pasta that had been set out for her. 

“Nerine…” AZ coughed into his hand, his face reddening. Despite all the work he’d put into preparing dinner for her, he was still dressed in his pajamas.  “Floette and I wished to thank you for your kindness the other night, and so, we have made you dinner. I hope everything is to your tastes…”  “O-oh! That's … that's very sweet of you.” Nerine said. She swayed gently, uncertain of what more to say. She was surprised to even see him, let alone have a home cooked meal from him. “Of course… I am eternally your servant.”

Nerine blushed, her gaze focused down at the floor. “I’m going to go get changed before I sit down and eat, but… here, this is for you.” She thrust the shopping bag into his arms, and watched as AZ’s arms slumped with the weight of it.. He peered into it, his head slightly tilted, and lifted the new scarf she’d purchased from within it.

“I know I probably should have told you what I was planning on doing,” Nerine began,  “But I know you would’ve tried to stop  me. Said it’s something you don’t deserve. Well, to me, it’s not a matter of whether or not you deserve it. It’s simply… something I wanted to do for you as someone who cares about you. I hope you can accept it.”

“Ah… thank you.” He smiled, warm and gentle. She felt her heart racing at the sight of it. “For you, Lady Nerine, I will try to believe that I am worthy of such kindness.” Nerine nodded in response. She was quick to rush off to her bedroom, hoping to hide her own excitement. He does care about me! Her mind was a twisted knot of thoughts, though few were comprehensible to her. I knew that. Of course he cares about me! So why was it so hard to…?

Nerine slipped into her favourite nightgown, intending to match AZ’s own casual style. She laughed to herself, surprised by her own eagerness. It wouldn’t be their first time sharing a meal together, but hopefully it wouldn’t be their last. I hope he knows I appreciate him, too… 

When she returned to the dining room, she found AZ already seated, waiting for her. He glanced at her shoulder, where the strap of her nightgown had fallen aside, then looked away with a cough. She sat across from him, and found she couldn’t keep herself from smiling. “The champion came by today, as well as some of her friends…” Nerine began, “They heard the museum had recently been donated a new painting of you, and wanted to see it…”

After dinner, Nerine had intended to retire for the night. Instead, she was laying in her bed, staring straight up at the ceiling. He stayed for her. He did something kind for her. She had kissed her forehead that morning, and when she sat to join him later, she saw the brief look of desire he’d given her. In his old age, he’d become much more timid. In the past, he was always so eager to sneak away with her. To kiss her in the halls of the palace that saw little use, and hold her close. Of course, she understood why he had changed. 3000 years spent desiring a single thing, and just now relearning how to have other wants. Still, she could not help but to think of the deep contrast between then and now. 

On her bed, Clytie was curled up into a ball, snoring. Nerine reached over to stroke her, and watched as she woke up, then stretched her long body out. “You’ve always been a light sleeper, haven’t you?” she said. “You’ll even wake up if I move even just a little bit.” She reached over, pulling Clytie closer onto her lap. The Espeon mewed in response, her voice pitching as if she were asking a question.

“Do you think he's awake, too? He probably is. His sleep schedule is a mess…” Nerine lifted Clytie above her head. In response, the Espeon made a soft noise of complaint. “Do you think I should go see him? I should, shouldn't I?” 

Nerine set Clytie down beside her, and planted a small kiss onto her forehead before standing up from her bed.

As she predicted, she saw a soft glow from her living room; the sign of the TV still being on. Slowly, she walked over, her footsteps soft so that she would not disturb him. AZ was spread out on her couch, his long legs awkwardly dangling over the floor. On the coffee table, Floette attempted to stay focused on the film they watched together, but was clearly struggling.

When AZ noticed her, he lifted his head slightly in acknowledgement. 

“I was wondering if you would still be awake… I tried to sleep, but as you can see, it didn’t work out…”, she yawned, “what are you watching?”

“I’m not sure,” AZ admitted, and Nerine laughed at his blunt answer.

She pondered for a moment, then came closer to him. Her eyes scanned over his body; from the lazy ponytail he'd put his untamed hair in, to his comfortable sweater which, while oversized, did not fully cover his arms.  Some day, she would take his measurements and get him something custom made, she concluded.

Silently, she crawled into his lap and laid her head against his shoulder. She could feel AZ shift, and suddenly his hand was attached to the back of her head, idly playing with her soft curls.

“I am overjoyed to have you in my arms again,” he sighed. She could feel her face warm at his statement, and the sense of want dripping from his voice. “ when I awoke this morning to find you gone, I felt somewhat distressed...”

“Oh… I’m sorry,” Nerine replied, “I didn’t want to wake you…I know you have trouble sleeping some days.”

“And I would not want you to be late for work for my sake! I will have to refresh myself on your schedule.”

“I’ll tell you about it tomorrow,” Nerine said with a nod, “I have no desire to talk about my job  right now.”

She glanced towards the TV. A romantic scene played as a blood-soaked and haggard warrior embraced his deceased lover, the sickly colour of poison clinging to her lip. When she gazed at Floette laid out on the table, she’d finally fallen asleep.  

“...You know, I expected to come back and find you gone. You never liked to stay in one place for long, especially if it wasn’t a necessity for you.” Nerine drummed her fingers against his shoulder, her voice nearly inaudible. “I didn’t want you to. I hoped you would stay.”

“Is that so?”

“N— not that I would have been upset if you had somewhere else to be! I just…”

“I’m glad,” he interrupted, “I had assumed you would be happier were I to leave; I do not wish to be a bother to you. I am glad that you enjoy my presence.”

“Of course. We’re…” Nerine paused, frowning. “Well, we’re rather close, aren’t we?”

“Very close,” AZ agreed. He lifted her chin so that her gaze would be fixed on him. Her breath hitched, her bottom lip wavering. His thumb brushed gently over her lip, pressing into the soft, pink-toned skin. “I am glad to be close to you, my Nerine.”

She watched his mouth part with an inaudible gasp, as if he'd recalled something. His own eyes gazed back at her with a rare gentleness.

He leaned towards her, and Nerine did the same; their lips met, and Nerine felt electricity running down her spine, filling every small nook of her being. She whimpered against him, and prayed he did not hear it.

“I apologize…” AZ said in a hushed whisper, “I find it difficult to restrain myself around you.”

“It’s…” Nerine began, though her voice cracked. “It’s fine…”

Unsure of what more to say, hid her face in the fabric of his sweater. She could hear him laugh softly before resting his hands on her lower back in a loose hug. It was almost strange. They’d spent so long apart, and yet interacting with him like this… it felt as if she had truly come home. 

…it would be okay if he stayed for just a little bit longer, wouldn't it…?

[allwormdiet]

Sentinel 9.5

Every thirteen year old in this story is going through hell

Dear Parian, how do you puppet cloth dolls with boxing gloves on their hands?

Nah but this is nice to see them getting along with each other, and I'm glad that Vista gets to see something cute in such a blighted fucking time.

The background levels of desperation and fear in this setting remain very strong and evocative.

Gayyyyyy

Vista like "hey I'm not young enough to actually enjoy this, but I'm old enough to act polite about it"

God that's so fucking cool

Oh man who could have possibly predicted that putting a thirteen year old in constant life-or-death situations with people dying around her could possibly result in a warped perspective on death and dying, that's so weird

Oh man, who could have possibly predicted that enlisting a thirteen year old in a quasi-military policing organization where she's legitimately got seniority over high schoolers could possibly result in feeling distanced from her own age, that's so weird

So like, is there truly nowhere else to put the team portrait gallery than right where everyone sees them every time they enter? Just put them in another hallway or wing or something, especially if you're dropping bodies.

Still a little darkly funny that Browbeat doesn't even get a portrait, guy was straight up too new to even put in front of a camera

The idea that Coil has only managed to infiltrate the PRT at all because they're letting him infiltrate the PRT is. Oh my fucking God he's so bad at this. So far every win we've seen him take against other players is because they feel bad enough to let him have it. Coil, you have got to fucking hang it up my man, the minute someone decides to actually deal with you you're cooked

(It's almost certainly gonna be Taylor, on account of that child you kidnapped and forcibly addicted to drugs)

Okay so like. Hwoo. I keep talking about the expectations being put on the Wards in this fucking story but this is a really steep one. Let this fucking mole into your midst and let him do what he does. Let a tinker, a goddamn superpowered tech specialist, hang out where your stuff is.

I know they all agree to do it but they already all agreed to fight fucking Leviathan, Vista agreed to kill a man for seconds on the clock, we're waaaaay past the point where any boundaries might still be crossed

Hey you know what, self-awareness is good, it's healthy, I wish someone would let Taylor have some but that's fine

Okay, well, at least Piggot is willing to treat these kids a little like kids. And address some of the concerns that they have. And promise that she'll find some kind of compensation for the fact that these kids are going above and fucking beyond in their role as junior heroes.

Glad Kid Win gets a... win

and while I don't love Clockblocker making fun of Piggot, I get it. She's the authority figure in their lives, she consistently plays the role of bad cop with them. That's how it goes.

Okay so Vista turned thirteen on the day that Leviathan hit Brockton Bay, which means she's been at this since she was eleven, maybe younger. This now puts her pretty firmly in the same age bracket as Alec, and that might put her at silver or bronze for youngest known trigger event depending on how old Miss Militia was at the time.

Also, the fact that Vista has thrown herself into her career as a cape, at age thirteen, as a means to not have to spend time with her parents? That's bleak. I continue to maintain that she should be allowed to commit any misdemeanor she wants to and get away with it forever

So Hookwolf almost murdered an 11-12 year old and they truly can't just commit to having a single Triumvirate member sit on his Birdcage transport the entire way along just to make sure he actually gets gone? At least until they're out of the Empire's reach, surely, like what the fuck

Do the unspoken rules not kick in on attempted murder? Do you need a corpse to make it stick?

Jesus God, Sophia, I am trying to keep an open mind about you but so far you have just been such a jerk in so many directions.

Like obviously she's not doing well but what's the alternative for her at this point

Just gotta pick up the slack left by two older, more experienced(?) teammates who had a lot of hopes and emotional bonds riding on them. And Browbeat.

Does anybody on this team like Sophia?

Weld is good people. Also I think "empathetic" is technically the correct word unless the ability to warp space like putty also comes with emotion reading.

This is sweet.

Also, yeah, cry. It's good for you.

Godddddddd fucking dammit Sophia.

This is so unreasonably cruel to do to a teammate, never mind to a kid

"Bluh bluh life is pain, the real world is all about what's hard, suffering builds character" shut the fuck up Sophia, Vista put up bigger numbers against Leviathan and doesn't have a rusty knife in place of a personality.

Also "kids" girl you have at most three years on her

Big bad Shadow Stalker can't handle being the one under the microscope

Yeah no for real, the moment she gets provoked in a way even kind of resembling the way she provokes others, she resorts to acts of physical violence. Thin-skinned hypocrite, thy name is Sophia Hess.

Guess Vista's lucky she's not taller and more gangly or else Sophia would've tried to rip her ear off.

Current Thoughts

Vista is the PRT's strongest soldier and she is out there fighting their hardest battles. She also has not reached high school yet and possibly wasn't even in middle school when she first donned the costume. This whole system is a scam.

Cool to see Weld better settling into the leadership role, at least.

And then Sophia. Sophia, Sophia, Sophia. I don't know what the Undersiders have planned for you but right now I'm having a hard time feeling sympathy. Do unto others, you little maniac.

[twopoppies]

Hey Gina, this is awkward and not about 1D but you're a bit older than me and also a parent so I am hoping you might have some advice. I'm clinically diagnosed with depression, anxiety and ADHD. I hate it but that's the truth so I try very hard to make up for my shortcomings (especially the ADHD). I take all of my medication, I have regular sleep hours, I sleep pretty well, I try to participate in conversations with people. I'm really trying! Here is the hard thing though: I've hit this wall where I'm having trouble with self care. I don't have a job or and local friends so I'm almost completely isolated. And at some point I just let things go that used to matter to me: I rarely wear makeup, I don't shower very often and I wash my hair even less. I can't handle cooking for myself so I eat what's in the fridge and fast and not very much of it. I've gained weight which significantly adds to the self hatred. I struggle to be happy when people I love have great things happening to them. I know this isn't a sustainable way to live but I feel so frozen and don't know how to change anyrhing.

Sorry for the trauma dump but if you have any advice I would love to hear it.

Hi, sweetheart. I'm so glad you're not at that point, but I'm sorry to hear you're struggling so much. I really get how hard all of that can become. Medication helps, but it doesn't always solve every issue. I'm proud of you for doing what you can each day.

I guess my first question is whether you've checked with your doctor to make sure you're on the right dosages/medication choices. Sometimes, it takes some tweaking to get it right (and even things like weight gain can change a medication's effectiveness). Have you had any sort of hormonal workup? Particularly if you're AFAB, hormones can play a HUGE role in exacerbating things like depression, anxiety, motivation, etc., and, if nothing else is a factor, you could ask about a birth control prescription/IUD as that could turn out to be really helpful in regulating your hormones.

Here in LA, I've recommended a mentoring program to a lot of kids who struggle with the stuff you're dealing with. I don't know if they have anything like that where you are or if it's financially feasible, but it's basically a person close in age (assuming you're younger) who's struggled with similar issues and who has similar interests. They schedule "dates" with you a few times a week. It gets you out of the house doing things you enjoy, but it's also a person to confide in/get advice from who isn't a parent or therapist but is more like a peer. I've seen this be super helpful.

Other than this, are you seeing a therapist? Is there one you might be able to speak with, even occasionally? Having some accountability to someone and voicing your thoughts is super helpful. Is it at all possible for you to get yourself out of the house a couple days a week, even for a short walk? Getting out into nature is free and is a proven mood booster. As is exercise. And you don't have to do a ton of self-care to do it.

The self-care thing can be really tough. What I've found to be helpful is to first acknowledge that some days, all you can do is brush your teeth or put on clothes. Even getting that one thing done is still something to acknowledge and be proud of yourself for. Does having pretty/nice smelling things help you want to shower/wash your hair? Maybe getting a cozy robe or new bath products could motivate you to do it a little more often.

I wish I had some foolproof ideas for you. I really know how hard it all can feel. I'm sending you some extra love. ❤️

If anyone is reading all of this and has some better ideas to help this anon, please feel free to add on!

[mswyrr]

more on michelin stars

I genuinely think it's going to be an important plot point in s3 re: why exactly Sydney wants a star and why *one* specifically. I went and researched and discovered something I used in my fic, which is that one Michelin star restaurants are excellent cuisine that normal people can still afford. And that connected, for me, to what Sydney had told Marcus about how going out was so special when she was a kid and she wanted to share that kind of amazing thing with people:

We didn't really like eat out a lot growing up, so when we did, it felt special even if it wasn't.... I wanna cook for people and make them happy and give them the best bacon on Earth (1x08)

I'm so hopeful/convinced that the research they have with, like, Matty (the chef who plays Fak) right there on set, means the writers know that about what one star places can be like. And that it's meant to be part of this - more humane vision of excellence for Sydney, where their spot is AMAZING, but it's not a cruel kitchen culture, it's not only for the rich.

For her, it’s *part* of her vision, where she says: 

“I think this place could be so different from all the other places we've been at. But, in order for that to be true, we need to run things different.“ (1x03)

But Carmy sees a star and all it means (all he’s ever known it to mean) as a repudiation of that kind of humanity. You say the word "star" and immediately Carmy goes "fuck stars" (2x01) as pure self-defense - because stars are just pain and suffering to him. They're NYC chef and everything that mess became.

He's so traumatized by the whole thing he doesn't think to ask the right questions: why do you want one? What is your vision for it? Why do you specifically want *one* instead of two or three? What timeline do you have in mind for getting there and how can we strategize on this together?

Instead, because he wants so desperately to please her, despite that instinctive, self-defensive "fuck stars" he relents and asks - okay, are you sure? Are you positive this is what you want? Really?? It's terrible. It's just dread and fear and throwing up every day before work. You really want me to give you this?

(I’ll give you anything you want)

He never asks the right questions. Just assuming the level of pain which is his only experience of this is what the thing IS--playing into that theme about how people only know what they're taught, only know what they are given, and if we are given pain and patterns of it it is so hard to even imagine things can be different and, when you can imagine it, still so hard to actually get there.

(It’s not a coincidence that the ASL sign is one of the few positive, healthy examples of kitchen culture Carmy witnessed - we only know what we’re taught, and it can be hard work to even figure out what “not shitty” IS let alone doing it)

So he's assuming all of that and it's like - if she's his CDC, does she want him to push her as hard as he was pushed? Push himself that hard again? He doesn't want to do either of those things. But that's all he knows. And she keeps saying this is what she wants. And he wants to give her everything she wants.

(In the same conversation she kept saying yes, this is what I want, she expressed admiration for the designer chef outfit he later buys her as a gift - he wants to give her everything she wants, even when it seems like a terrible idea he’s torn about)

I think this misunderstanding is intentional and it’s going to come out in S3. A one star restaurant fits so perfectly with what we know of Sydney’s goals and love for her work! And Carmy not able to even conceive of something better because of the patterns he’s stuck in and finding his way to her vision makes sense for him.

I think Carmy figuring out how this work can be joyful and humane is going to be a huge part of S3. Sydney not becoming lost in the high stress environment, not following in younger!Carmy's footsteps living a life of pure drive and dread, and Carmy finding that for the first time.

I do think that, given where they both end in 2x10, there’s going to be a period of conflict and a real bunch of issues for both of them - but with themes and ideas like this seeded into the story there’s so many ways to make s3 start out in a bad way and then really end in joy in a beautiful way?

[abbatoirablaze]

Matched, Namira, Chapter 3

Word Count:  2.8k

Warnings:  self loathing, mentions of taking a bullet for someone.

“So...this whole dynamic...” you asked slowly, unsure of what to ask about as you’d witnessed the omega, Ben, helping your delta Bucky, and your alpha, Andy, making dinner.

“We’re different!” Ransom smirked as he knocked back another drink and wrapped an arm around the back of your chair.  You couldn’t help but to smirk in response at how he seemed to be bragging about the match, “Andy here is really big on communication, and when we have interests, problems, or opportunities...he wants us all to talk about it and choose a direction to go in.”

“So, he...doesn’t make all of the decisions?” you asked, the small smirk growing on your face as you thought about your own family and how you’d grown up.

“I think people work best together when everyone feels heard and supported,” Andy explained as he took the empty plate from your place, “and that means that inside of our little dynamic sometimes we take on more than traditional roles.  For instance, Bucky and I love to cook, so more often than not, one of us helps Ben make dinner, because it’s something we enjoy doing.”

“And because my love language is acts of service,” Ben smiled, “so knowing that they’re willing to explore their interests, while taking on something that might be viewed as an omega job because they know I’m not the greatest cook, means a lot to me.  In the week that we’ve been together, since you accepted the match, they’ve really helped me learn in the kitchen.”

“Benny boy here is our little IT nerd,” Ransom chuckled, “he can keep those terrorists out of our countries network like there’s no tomorrow, but just a week ago, he didn’t know how to make toast.”

Ben blushed, nervously pushing some hair behind his ear, “I’m trying.”

“And you’re doing a great job, Ben!” Andy smiled sincerely, giving the younger man a gentle clap on the shoulder.

“You gon’ tell her about the system?” Lee asked quietly from his spot across from you at the table.

“The system?”

Andy turned back towards the three of you who were still sitting at the table, “Lee-“

“She’s gonna have to find out eventually,” Ransom snickered, “and it was really your idea.  You’re the one who has a hard on for carving time out and having quality time.”

Andy sighed, and Bucky put a hand on his shoulder, “She’ll be fine with it.  Her family worked similarly.”

“A day system?” you asked. 

Andy nodded, shrugging, “it seemed fair in my head.”

You couldn’t help as the smile came back onto your face, “My family had that.  My mother would split five of her seven days between my fathers.  The nights would be theirs to have for dates or quality time.  And the other two, she usually spent in her quarters, or with whichever father she felt needed the extra time with her.”

“Well, I think we should start it tonight then,” Ransom suggested with a shrug, “I mean, if she’s already familiar with it, why wait?”

“Ransom...just because her family had a similar practice, it doesn’t mean that she understands what truly happens,” Andy frowned, “when she was introduced to the concept, she was a child, not a center.  She didn’t really understand what it meant.”

“Drysdale just wants to get it started, because you lot agreed that he’d get to go first since his family helped us find this place so quick and get it set up!” Lee growled, “stupid elitist always winning even when-“

“I’m sorry, Bodecker, maybe you should get that stick out of your ass,” Ransom spat, glaring at the sigma, “we all agreed on-“

“I didn’t agree on shit!” he hissed.

“Guys...” Andy warned.

But Lee was already up from the table, “No...you lot agreed, but I didn’t.  I was outvoted, Andy.”

“Yeah...you were outvoted,” Ransom smirked, “that means that the majority won.  Barber told us from day one that it was going to be a democracy.  And-“

“Shove off, Drysdale!”

“Lee, we know how you felt about it all,” Bucky frowned, “that’s why we also all agreed that you would get the second night with Namira...”

Lee glared at Bucky the entire time the delta tried to make his way over to him, and when Bucky put his hand on Lee’s shoulder, he brushed him off.

“Don’t try to be all buddy buddy with me, Barnes.”

“Come on, Lee...you know that if we went traditionally, it would have been just about everyone but Ben before you...Andy and I are going to be the last two to get time with her because we understand that-“

“I ain’t gonna sit here and listen to yer’ politics.  I already did it enough when we hashed this out, and you all made me feel like a dick,” he hissed, brushing Bucky off yet again, “ya’ll do what you want, but I’m going to my wing.”

“Typical sigma bullshit!” Ransom growled, crossing his arms over his chest, “you know, he’s just mad that-“

“Ran...come on,” Ben frowned, cutting the epsilon off, “you know that was uncalled for...you know how sensitive Lee is about-“

“About what?” Ransom asked, cutting him off, “about the fact that his last match never was attracted to him?�� I’m not going to feel guilty about his lack of effort and my higher status.  He got tired of trying when Florence decided she wasn’t his type.”

“Wait...what are you talking about?” you asked, “did Lee have a failed match too?”

“Lee’s first match, a woman in her early twenties was a step down for him.  Despite him being a sheriff here in the capital now, five years ago Lee was running one of the outer areas in the rurals, so he was a low-mid level.  They only had a sixty percent compatibility, but he was the closest match she’d had in that designation, so they took him, because she was antsy about getting matched.  Only thing is, when they met, she wasn’t attracted to him in the slightest, and the rest of the match wasn’t at all happy with him...so while she ignored him, and the rest of his match alienated him, he went to pleasure houses.  So much so that when his epsilon saw the opportunity to, he got Lee in trouble.  He was pulled from the match a year in and told that unless someone came in at a 95 or above, he was going to be alone...he kind of became reserved to the idea that no one was ever gonna want him...” Andy explained, “so he threw himself into his career, and about two years past that they made him a peace keeper in the capital, guarding the mayor....well the mayor appreciated his drive, and last year when Lee saved his life, and the old sheriff retired, they gave him the position...and then you came along...he just-he needs time to adjust.  You’re a lot more accepting of him than I think he thought you would be.”

“Do-do you think that maybe we could start the system tomorrow?” you asked softly, “i-I think that maybe...maybe I could have a night for my own devices first.”

“Yeah...yeah...” Andy said quickly, nodding his head, “of course.  You’ll want to get settled in and learn the lay of the land, and-“

“I think if our dynamic is to work, we all need to be on the same page...” you agreed, “Ben...will you show me to Lee’s wing?”

Ransom looked at you in shock, “LEE’S WING?  WHAT A-“

“Ransom...”

“No...Namira was supposed to be mine first.  We all agreed that-“

But he stopped speaking when you put a hand on his chest, “Ransom...I want everyone in our dynamic to feel loved and supported...Andy feels loved and supported by all of us accepting Jacob.  I want you to know that I’m not doing this to be spiteful.  I want our match to work.  And I know that Lee will feel loved and supported if I go and speak to him...”

“Wh-what about me?”

Your heart nearly broke at how saddened he’d sounded.  But you unwrapped his hand from the back of your chair and put it over your heart.  His eyes fell to his hand over your breast, and your hands on top of it, “do you feel how my heart beats?  Do you feel how it thuds against my breast?”

He nodded.

“I have felt need and support from you since the moment we sat down,” you reminded him, “it makes my heart sing so fully and so completely.  I can see that past all of the flirtations and jokes, that you are a deep, caring individual.  Now, when I  first signed up for the corps, all of my hopes of finding a match, with men like you withered, and I never thought my heart would ever feel so full...but it does.  In order to keep it that way, I have to make sure each of you feel the same way that I do.  So, do you want our match to work, Ransom?”

“Y-yeah...I-I do.”

You gave him a soft smile, and he just continued to stare at you, “I will spend tomorrow night with you...but I need to see Lee tonight.  To speak with him tonight.  I will not stay the night in his room...I only want him to know that I see him in the same way that all of you see me.  And that I want him in our match, just as I want all of you.”

“O-okay...”

You leaned forward and wrapped your arms around him.  He sighed into your hug and held you too. 

“N-Namira?”

You looked up, breaking away from your hug from Ransom.  Ben was giving you a soft smile as he held a hand out to you. 

“I will see you in the morning, Ransom.”

“O-okay...”

Taking Ben’s hand, you allowed him to lead you out of the dining room and towards what was Lee’s wing in the house.  There was a small moment of silence, but as you ascended the stairs, he spoke, “you know...I’m surprised that worked.”

“What?”

“I mean, I’ve only ever met Ransom a handful of times before the match, and dealt with him just as much since then, but I’ve never seen anyone calm him down like that...”

“I know of men like him...he just needs to know that he’s appreciated...”

“Words of affirmation.”

You nodded, “I get the sense that he was a little overlooked in life, despite his status...that people didn’t appreciate him for the sensitive and kind soul that I see, so he hardened it...he made a wall around it so that people couldn’t see him.  But I see him...I see the little things that he does...he may be an epsilon, but he reminds me of my own alpha father.  He was a man full of pride...but words and actions meant everything to him.”

He chuckled, “you know...you’re an interesting woman, Namira...”

You shrugged, “I only want our family to succeed, Ben...”

“I think you might just do that.”

And with that, the two of you came to a stop, and he knocked on the door.  The two of you waited for a moment, but there wasn’t a reply.

“He-he might have gone to bed.”

“Do you mind if I go in by myself?”

He shrugged, “you can do whatever you want...if you need help finding your room, feel free to wander down any of the other wings...we’ll show you.”

“Thank you Ben.”

He nodded, and wandered down the hall, while you made your way into the room. 

It was a simple room without much decorations, despite being large enough to house plenty. 

The ceilings were vaulted, and it made the full-sized bed feel even smaller than it actually was.  While the fireplace burned in a corner, you felt the slightest breeze leading from a set of dainty looking French doors. 

“Lee...”

You heard him shuffle a little, but when he didn’t greet you, you walked towards the balcony.  Your heart ached for the man as you saw him.  He had a leather jacket sitting over his shoulders, while a half-full bottle sat between his legs, his hand lightly caressing the neck and opening.  The amber liquid sloshed ever so slightly when he shifted again, this time looking at you. 

“What are ya doin’ up here, sweetness?” he asked, his drawl coming out ever so slightly.  You could see from his eyes, and how they were slightly glassy that he was intoxicated, “thought you’d be enjoyin yer’ first night with good ole’ elitist Drysdale.”

“Lee...”

“That’s my name,” he said with a frown as he picked up the bottle and took another long pull from it, “Lee Bodecker.  Rural trash that managed to find his way into a high-profile match...good ole’ sigma rural stock with no real value other than a human shield.”

“Th-that’s not true...”

“Oh, that’s right as rain peaches...all I am is a human bullet catcher,” he groaned to himself, “you know that’s why they bumped me up to sheriff?  Cuz I put myself in the way of a bullet that was gonna catch the mayor last year?”

“They mentioned you had a promotion last year...”

He let go of the bottle and lifted his shirt so that you could see the faintest blotch on his abdomen.  He spitefully slapped it and scoffed, “took a bullet in the stomach for our beloved politician and they said that I should get the promotion...truth is, part of me just figured death would be a better look than a lonely aging man.”

“Y-you’re not alone, Lee...” you said softly as you came out and sat beside him on his balcony, “you have us.  You have your ma-“

“Don’t say I have y’all, sweetness,” he frowned, cutting you off, “no one’s ever given a damn about me.”

“I give a damn,” you replied, taking his hand in your own, “I very much give a damn about you, Lee.”

“Don’t go lying to me like that,” he said, shaking his head, “you’re way out of my league, an-“

“Shut up,” you sighed, cutting him off, “don’t say that I’m out of your league, Lee.”

“Honey, you are though.”

“If I’m so out of your league, then why am I attracted to you?” you asked, “if you aren’t meant to be part of our match, why do I want to have a connection with you despite barely knowing you?”

He scoffed, “my old match said that too at first...that she wanted me to be part of the match...”

“How high did we score, compatibility wise, Lee?”

“Huh?”

“The men mentioned that you wouldn’t be given a match unless they scored at least a 95 with you...how high did we score together?”

“Well the grou-“

“You and I!”

“98.”

You smiled softly at him, “a 98...”

“They said it would have been a perfect score had I had higher scores in family values...but I...family ain’t never been a priority to me...not because I don’t want one though...I just-“

Lee stopped speaking when your lips crashed against his. 

You didn’t know what had come over you.  But there was something deep in your soul telling you that you needed to do it.  That you had to physically show him that he meant something to you.  And you were shocked, despite how attracted to him that you really were, when you felt sparks shooting through you. 

You found yourself all but melting into the softness of his form, and his arms wrapped around you, before pulling you into his lap. 

The bottle ended up tipping, spilling the amber contents on the rest of the balcony, but neither one of you seemed to care. 

You were quick to let him know that he was dominant in your relationship, but you did massage his tongue with your own when it entered your mouth. 

He moaned against your lips, and you broke the kiss, breathlessly.

“I-I’m sorry...if I-I was too forward...” you all but whimpered as you pressed your forehead against his.  He chuckled as your hands slid up his chest and up his neck until you reached his face, cupping it, “I just-I wanted you to know how I feel, Lee...and I-words...”

“It’s okay, sweetness,” he chuckled, his cheeks a slight shade of red.  He removed his arms from around your waist and pulled the jacket off of his shoulders, before putting it on yours, “you’re shivering though, honey...and the last thing I want is for you to catch a cold.”

“I-I never kissed anyone before,” you admitted, the words barely coming out above a whisper, “I-I think I’m shaking so much bec-“

“I-I was your first kiss?” he asked, cutting you off.  You nodded, and the smile on his face grew, “you really wanted to kiss me?”

“Lee...you are one of my matches...you, and the rest of the men mean everything to me...you five are my future...and I can see that each of you are good men.  Good men that will take care of  me...of our future children.  Of each other...”

“How in the world did I ever deserve a woman like you, Namira?”

Chapter 4

[maochira]

big bro baki hangouts!! would would we doooooo🌫️

-🦦

OKAY OKAY SO

Hanging out with big brother!Baki

Tags: gn!younger half-sibling!reader, based on my other older brother!Baki headcanons where reader isn't a fighter + reader lives with their mother

-honestly, Baki is kind of bad at coming up with ideas for stuff to do with you. All he did at your age (and still nowadays) was training and fighting to become stronger

-because you don't live together, you have to plan your hangouts, usually days in advance. It's rare for Baki to randomly appear at your place without telling you first

-sometimes you imagine what it'd be like if you lived together and which one of you would be more likely to randomly go to the other's room to be annoying (it'd be you)

-most of the time he lets you choose an activity, especially if it's one of your hobbies. He's open to trying out anything (mainly to make you happy), but sometimes he gets bored. He tries to hide his boredom, though

-he prefers being outside when spending time with you because activities inside tend to get repetitive quickly

-you often cook together! Sometimes your mother helps as well

-you're better at cooking than Baki, so he learns a lot from you, especially new recipes for dishes he thought were too complicated before cooking them with you

-a lot of your time together is spent just talking. Usually with whatever activity you chose for that day on the side

-Baki tries to give you "big brother advice" for anything you struggle with, but he doesn't know much about regular teenager-life so most of the time he can just offer you support and not give you advice when you have emotional problems or struggle with friendships

-Baki enjoys hearing about your life, since it gives him a look into a more normal life. And in general, he likes learning about you as a person because you didn't grow up together, so he wants to know the experiences that made you grow into who you are

-he also tells you about his fights and other things he's experienced a lot! (If you're sensitive, he leaves out gory details about injuries)

-sometimes Baki teaches you simple fighting techniques! Mainly ones you can use for self-defence

-one time he wanted to do something special with you, so he took you to an amusement park. But then he couldn't go on most of the rides because he's too broad and the safety belts were too short

-then he spent the rest of the day in the amusement park with games, claw machines and whatever else there was. He ended up winning a lot of plushies for you

[brainbleach6]

Caustic x Reader NSFW Headcanons

Caustic x GenderNeutral!Reader (and some extra bits at the end for trans men) Headcanons:Warning: NSFW, Food Kink (slight), Mention of possession, Mention of underwear stealing --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

*Caustic considered himself a man above simple things like desire. He simply didn't have the time nor interest for it.

*At least that's what he thought until he met you.

*You were also a contester in the games. A good-looking one at that. He was intrigued immediately when you introduced yourself to him as if he was an average Joe.

*Surely you had watched the Apex Games and seen him before? Why were you so nonchalant with him?

*At first, it infuriated him. You acted as if he wasn't this amazing man of great capabilities.

*Then it excited him, to his extreme surprise.

*He liked that you treated him like a normal man, not a psychopath like everyone else did.

*It started slow.

*At first, it was just simple, innocent thoughts about what you could be up to when he was alone. Were you preparing for a game? What did you do for fun when alone?

*Then it got a little less innocent. He thought about how you'd sound in bed. Were you breathy and quiet? Or gaspy and loud? Were you a screamer? Maybe if he did it right, you'd be.

*He wasn't ashamed of these thoughts, but surprised. He hadn't thought about sex in a while, with all the games and hiding he was doing.

*Sure people had made approaches. Usually, younger girls who liked the mysterious vibe he gave off (and the idea of a sugar daddy), but he always declined with disgust.

*But here he was, fantasizing about you the way those girls did him.

*It was awkward at first for him. He'd think about you and then have to work with you in a game. It was often harder (wink wink) to work when he wanted to just take you right then and there.

*Especially when you teased him.

*It was innocent enough. You making jokes at his expense about his stamina in game or how old he was. But it made him want to prove you wrong and fuck you sore right there in the abandoned building.

*Or when you cooked food on off times. It was a love language he found very enticing, especially when you hummed and wiggled your hips while cooking him something.

*It made him want to skip over the meal and have you instead. (Or integrate the meal into bed ;))

*Speaking of food, he loved when you ate in front of him. You weren't really messy, but you weren't careful in the slightest and he enjoyed watching you scarf down your favorite food after a rigorous match.

*It made him wonder (and jerk off to the thought of) how you'd go down on his dick.

*He often spent multiple nights fisting his cock at the thought of you bouncing on him.

*He often came to the thought of you riding him in one of his coats.

*He didn't know why, but he enjoyed "owning" you in some way.

*And don't even get him started on the idea of stealing your underwear.

*It's taken him all of his self-restraint some days to not grab a few pairs and stuff them in his pocket while you had him help with laundry.

(A few extra for my fellow trans men) *He's surprised.

*He didn't know he was attracted to men?

*He's pretty chill with it though, often telling you scientific proof that gender is a social construct to make you feel better if you're dysphoric.

*If you still have a pussy, he'll have you sit on his face for HOURS. He wants to make you feel good.

*Grab his hair while he eats you out and suddenly you're riding him?

*Like? How tf did that happen? Jk jk, he'll give you a warning (and see if you're okay with riding him when you're so sensitive)

*If you have top surgery, he'll trace your top scars with his tongue, looking up at you all the while. 🤤

*If you don't he'll just lick and suck at them like a starved man. (and look up at you ofc)

*He'll also suck you off (whether you have bottom surgery or not). He'll sit there are suck on your T-dick and afterward tell you how nice you taste.

A/N: I think I went a liiiiiiittle crazy with this one, (704 words for a list of headcanons kinda crazy) but to be fair I haven't written in like 4 or 5 months and I actually was able to write this without much trouble… (also this is my first time posting a fic on Tumblr so idk if this is good, but I might start posting here more)

Links: Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LV2Obsess Music: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=X_WueKCrCs0&t=550s (don't ask idk)

[play-rough]

HELLO HI!!!!! i hope this message finds you SO WELL, i just wanted to say that i have been hyperfixating on ALL 18 of your fanfics for i think a year now. I have reread all of them, hyperanalyzed all of them, and i adore every word of every work. You have more than a way with words lol!!!

I don’t know what motivated you to cook up such a majestic AU but i’m more than here for it. Hope you have an amazing new year.

>what motivated me

atomoxetine

I kinda just started writing one day after finally being put on adhd meds and being able to do something and discovered it was very fun and easy to be super self indulgent and it didn’t come with a lot of the self doubts that my other hobbies do. I used to draw a lot more but I’m just always so hard on myself when doing it and I think the pressure makes me feel worse about it but that doesn’t carry over when I’m writing, it’s just a more fun experience.

You probably mean like inspiration motivation though, I was very in to Teen Wolf when I was younger and I really liked the pack dynamics fics (like many young not cis gays, I liked werewolves a lot) I like troupes like feeling almost animalisticlly protective over someone and I also enjoy speculative biology, and for some reason fleshing out and evolving a world with slightly different humans scratches some kind of itch in my autistic brain. So the bs hypothetical so i can put in all the stoopid werewolf troupes i like is ‘what if humans evolved from wolf like creatures instead of primate like creatures’ which is to say im just stealing some omegaverse troupes and some ‘littles are known’ troupes and mashing them together and I also don’t think im the first person to do it, if you hunt around on Ao3 you’ll probably find some similar fics I just don’t wanna take 100% credit for the Au ideas because I’m definitely not the first person to do this kind of stuff

Definitely can’t do shit without the atomoxetine though, I lost my insurance a few years ago and then only recently was able to get back on them (hence the decline in fics lmao i had a really good pace in the beginning though)

Anyways I hope to bring you much more than those 18 fics in the future! Thanks so much for reading and rereading I cherish your support and it’s my second motivation behind atomoxetine 🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷 i hope you have an amazing new year as well i hope 2025 is full of many new fics for you to read

[frillsinadress]

THE WINNER TAKES IT ALL

characters : daria , zoro , hiyori , robin.

warnings : sad angst, self hating

word count : 1.2 k

authors note : i am infamouse for my angst - its just what i do ! so enjoy some of my lighter content skjfkbnrlskf daria and zoro is such a near and dear ship.. let zoro live w his 7' tall gfmsfujds. set during wano - even tho i never watched wano. eat my jorts if smth is wrong.

“i think you should know— brook said he saw zoro and hiyori-san sleeping together once.” came the quiet hushed words of robin that shattered the once perfectly peaceful day. daria had been mid step, the words barely faltering her stride as the two walked side by side. the group was traveling back to their little hideout, and daria as usual had taken the front of the line to ensure her crew’s safe return. her stopping would cause an alarm, so she kept going. robin watched her expression, darias eyes locked in front of her. she knew robin did not mean any harm in her words— quite the opposite actually — but boy did they shake her mind up. 

had she misread something? missed a cue and lost track of the plot? daria was sur- no certain that her and zoro had been too bound to duty to ever get entangled in a relationship. hell the two had spoken about it several times before, and zoro had thrown the idea of romance right in the curly browed cooks face. 

all the promises, their endless trust of one another, the way they wordlessly covered each other in combat like perfect cogs in the machine. did she read too much into things? 

her stomach twisted, to the point it actually hurt. the walk was blanketed in silence as robin placed a gentle hand upon her shoulder, knowing the battle she was currently engaged in. daria had always been so set in her own ideas to the point where she had no idea how to properly handle such a shift. she never had time for boys or anything! so did she have any right to feel angry or sad that someone had taken the chance? 

she was broken from her little mind skirmish by the sight of their base, letting out a rattled sigh in relief as everyone started to get settled in. 

“if you’d like, we can have a girls night? like we used to hm? i think nami has managed to procure some of that oil you liked.” robin offered softly, genuinely wanting to ease the worry that was clearly shaking the younger girl mentally. daria handled the brunt of many on her shoulders, and now this was another weight for her to carry. daria smiled softly and nodded, wordlessly offering her arm to robin to take for the two to walk back to the girls rooms. 

opening the shoji door revealed the current person that tormented daria’s mind and she felt the floor give out under her. guilt twisted in her gut alongside feelings of sadness and anger. hiyori was stunning. her throat closed as she practically gaped at the girl who looked flushed, 

“oh im sorry! i was told i would be staying with you all, is that alright? did you need the room?” 

robin was about to speak when daria quacked out a reply, works feeling like barbed wire against her tongue, 

“not at all! i was just leading robin back so i could go on recon before bed!” 

robin gave her a side eye, full of concern and confusion but daria shrugged her off. her hand rose to unclasp her holster and slipped the magnificent dawn breaker off her back. 

“do you mind holding onto this for me?” she asked softly, passing robin her greatsword as her friend nodded and took it.

daria turned, and quietly walked out of the perimeter of the base and into the surrounding forest before she could hear anymore. her pace was steady, letting the breeze attempt to comfort her with gentle caresses that cooled her raging mind. for once she let herself try and digest the food in her mind. 

zoro and her had always been honest with one another - or as much the two could anyways. the deeper darker thoughts that plagued them were spilled via the clashing of swords, running through drills to smooth over the wounds from the mistakes of the past. she had always expected their bond would remain as strong as it had. maybe it still had? maybe he had done it out if pity? no, no zoro was not the one for pity or false kindness. 

the sights around her picked up as she then turned the spotlight onto herself. was she the problem? clearly zoro had ended up changing his decision to stay vigilant to only the duty of his dream. so then why hiyori, someone he had met only recently? hiyori was like a breath of fresh air on a hot summer day, the kind of person that made you feel at ease just by looking at her. and on top of that, hiyori was kind from what she had heard. 

as if on cue, the world around her blurred into a mess as her pace picked up to a run, her chest's tightness finally caving under the shaking as a sharp whimper left her lips. a blink of her eyes and tears were falling, leaving shiny tracks in their wake. her heartbeat raced and each beat matched the thrumming of her feet against the dirt. she stumbled over the tightness of her kimono, quickly grabbing at one of the edges and holding it up as she booked it further and further from their base. 

as memories raced in her mind, it did what it did best and hyper analyzed each scene — each interaction. this only pushed her further and further down the line of hysteria as she felt everything speeding up with no end of stopping. 

the steady pace was broken by a cracked hiccup, pushing the once impenetrable fortress that was daria off her feet and crashing into the earth. once one thing had broken the rhythm everything did. she beat her hand into the dirt, trying to silence her pitiful sounds of sobbing as she tried to scramble for any chance of recovery. nothing felt right, nothing made sense! she felt achy, lost and exhausted, weighted down as if she once again wore sea stone. this was not something she wanted to deal with, clutching at her hair and curling into herself. her mind rushed through so many thoughts she felt it was going to explode. and the worst part was that it made sense! 

it made sense as to why zoro would choose hiyori. the two seemed like a match made in heaven if she took a look at any trope in any romance novel or play! always the dainty princess with the brooding protector. it made no sense for two fighters to find anything but a sense of camaraderie in their world. she was stupid! so so painfully stupid to ever think that her and zoro would’ve ever had a chance! she was a fool to think anyone would ever wait years for her, especially when other better options lie elsewhere. she thrashed about, trying to grab at the invisible enemy that threatened her peace but there was none. of course there wasnt. she had no right to be angry at something she had no claim to. daria bowed her head to the earth, pleading and begging for it to take her suffering. 

in the game of life — the winner had taken it all, and daria had lost in playing by the rules. 

[hyouta]

More KH ramblings as I finished KH2 for the first time!! ...And damn this was in my drafts for so long that I've also finished my 358/2 days replay and played + finished BBS for the first time...

Once again just very long text post of me saying nothing but none of my twitter mutuals like KH so I feel bad spamming tweets too much.

I'd attach some of my KH wips (there's a surprising amount) but I feel self-conscious posting stuff that unfinished...

Yeah so, just like the raimi spider-man movies, I experienced the game without getting too bothered by annoying fans and I had a good time overall.

I felt like the disney worlds were a little bit lacking in areas but better than my experience in KH1... I think lol...

Some things I forgot to talk about in my original post

D-mode Riku was the saving grace of Reverse/Rebirth, I hated the limited card decks... I'm also dumb and it took me until the middle to understand the dueling system.

100 acre woods WRECKED me in all 3 games, I don't know why... the childhood innocence of it all? Legitimately the few times I have teared up playing through the series so far (other times was Betwixt and Between, and fighting Roxas).

❤︎

Anyway, similar to Re:Com I grinded up pretty far for standard mode, at least compared to the minimum level recommendation. I've maxed every form except Limit and Summon (I never use summons... and I didn't until the very end of KH1) (nevermind, did it quickly before the final Xemnas fight). Final form with Bond of Flame and spamming Firaga is very satisfying - just read that it's good with Master too but I have yet to try it.

Xigbar cooked my ass worse than Xaldin but I had to restart as many times as I fought Roxas. I'm pretty mid at these kind of games.

And after making it to the end of the Cave of Rembrance (because I wanted to get all the puzzle pieces/treasures BEFORE I finished the story)... I just... had a moment of silence... people really be playing this game on Proud/Critical yikes kfdjghfd;;

Last thought it damn why was it so much easier to get Ultima in this than KH1FM.

Anyway...

KH2 > Re:Com > KH1...... maybe, might be recency bias. Despite how Re:Com is hell I think it's also sort of rewarding once you have the right deck. Also, I think the final boss in KH1 is better than KH2.

My tweets: "Not that the xemnas fight was bad... but the over reliance on the reaction command for a fancier looking battle made it more hands off" "Kh1 had me stressed the whole last fight Kh2 I had no idea what I was doing but got there in the end Also I swear it cut his last health bar like 75% just to get me to that reflect ending"

"I do think the cinematic finishes are cool but I was so ??? Trying to figure out if I was missing a prompt bc the second to last phase was stuck at 1 hp forever"

❤︎

I changed my plans and watched the Days movie first, and while it was nice I think it strips a lot of the charm from the DS game; though I have zero idea if it maybe is closer to the original japanese version...? (On a side note watching the days opening now having played Re:Com and KH2- oh! That scene!- oh! Xigbar! Fuck that guy---- Days was my first KH game it's a wonder I understood anything).

I could have sworn I wrote down notes for this playthrough... I don't have a lot more to say than how I've felt about this game over the years. It still might be my favourite... I know the trio is DEFINITELY my favourite of the trios... I know I hated Agrabah for ages because of it but this playthrough helped me get over it and I found myself actually liking the monotony of the gameplay. Leechgrave and Ruler of the sky were way easier than when I was younger I think people exaggerate how hard those bosses are.

Oh right, I never played mission mode or challenge missions that much when I first played it and I don't get why, it's useful and fun!!

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Ok so I've got something to admit... despite being a fan of KH for a while now I've never watched like.... hmmm 90% of BBS cutscenes. Gave myself a brief synopsis but just never got around to delving deeper.

BBS dumps so much information and tutorials on you that I still do not fully understand how the command board is supposed to work and at this point I'm too afraid to ask. I'm not sure how beginner friendly this game is... kinda feels like a game for a lot of experimentation or game guides.

It has been years since I've played DDD so getting used to that command deck in BBS was ROUGH, took me until after Radiant Garden to get used to (at least I think it'll prepare me for my DDD replay).

I didn't really get the trio until maybe... fighting Master Eraqus (also, fuck that guy, and his battle). It was from there going forward that I got into the story. To be honest I wasn't sure what to make of Aqua until I played her story and that's when it all fit together, yes... yes I like them all. Still didn't really get too emotional until the point where she is in the realm of darkness and gets saved by those keyblades (I thought it was going to be Mickey - so now I don't know where those Mickey comments about him leaving her there for 10 years come from??).

Mini notes I made during my playthrough:

Obtains reversal and asks what it is before realising it was like Roxas and Sora's reversal move and I was like !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! YO (proceeds to never activate it, cause I suck).

One note is just me writing "Captain Justice???????" I assume when he appeared on the command board before I saw him in Ventus' story.

The Spirit of the Magic Mirror is a genuenily terrifying design I hate it so much, and you fight him twice? (not hard, just scary)

Aqua vs Terranort phase 2 was my Legends Arceus Origin Forme Giratina (but thankfully it was MILES easier than the first phase).

I love that when you visit disney worlds in the different stories it plays at different points in time/merges together at some point.

Pacing was a little weird for me because I finished each story in under 10 hours (considering Reverse/Rebirth took me 15 hours) it was pretty surprising... but I think... I like that? I've never been big on JRPGs but I can see BBS as being the easiest to replay for how short each story is. I don't know what they'd do but I'd love another game like this, regardless if it fits into a bigger picture. Let me play side characters like this more PLEASE.

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Now, I've owned Re:coded on the DS longer than I've had the PS4 collection but I will be playing that next for the first time, I've heard mixed opinion but if the different gameplay is true then that's huge.

For this I WILL play the DS game first before watching the movie and with any luck I should finish it before the new year.